E-40 - Mayhem Lyrics

Writer(s) : Thomas, Ricardo / Caldwell, Anthony / Jackson, Thomas / Selmon, Marvin
Artist: E-40 Lyrics
Popularity : 70 users have visited this page.
Album: Track 9 on The Element of Surprise
Rate: Mayhem gets avg. rating 5.6 out of 10 based on 27 ratings. Rate the song now!!!

Bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout.
Bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout.

Me and my guys be lurking the streets, plottin', upside-down smiling,
Bummin'; no matter skully, hoods, bandannas, bullets.
Stocking caps, ski masks, loced out, murder-one classes.
Those who wallop, hocked up, chopped tattooes permanent creased.
Survival one jeans.
Throw away his real ooze machines, Chinese AK zooms, razorblades,
Jerry Curls, finger waves, and French braids.
Labeled him sinner; look out for that ************ - he might rob ya.
*****s come tatted up head in a body slang.

Well it's your ***** Big Bonna; *****s be creeping up on ya.
Doing for the juggler; *****s trying to slug ya.
Catch a ***** doing all kinds of nasty things.
Oh, what I feel is mayhem brings.
You see us on the block; we doing our thuggin'; the gottie
Got the whole cap wondering who the **** shottie.
Lookin' for the body; tell me what they found?
His head in Richmond, the rest in the V-town.

Thinking about the set up, trying to get my red up.
'Bout my **** this tech-nine and get you wet up, blue.
So what the **** they want to do?
Seem like we got the vas of these *****s,
Caught cash, and thought we was through.
So **** this old bat ****; I'll get the gat, *****,
And probably blow your brains out.
Looking to get my cap fit,
Thinking they all acted up and while I'm at yo' ***
I'll probably put the ****ing slugs in you ***.

(Causing Havoc's, marking up chaos, bringing the ruckus,
Ghetto metal heathens, mobbing under bucks.
(If you can't beat us then join us.)
Get on the team; street sweepers, grenades, rafts, and M-1 cambiums.

It's a cold piece of work; I just wait,
'Cause the way *****s are in the baby plan ain't too safe.
*****s will run up in yo' car and try to take your face.
Move up out the plan so I trust no one take nothing for granted.
Expanded double-o chill; hillside hillbilly like changed clammit,
Dammit.
Us *****s is deep and do improved latex.
Found out where he slept and latest wave caps.
Tycoons; this business is really too bad,
That our biatches find our villa skates,
Sit up at the roundtable, and discuss
Trish ish batteries and territory issues.

By any means necessary, so in your chest I bury two buck shots.
So who got six *****s next to carry?
Of these want-to-be's, *****s they gonna see.
If you ************s put some that tatoned to me.

You see these *****s can't flip doing things that sick. (Like what?)
Cut off your damn ****, make you eat your own ****,
But I love a little mayhem; **** it, we can do it.
Don't make me get off that masso candy and some fluid.

(Causing Havoc's, marking up chaos, bringing the ruckus,
Ghetto metal heathens, mobbing under bucks.
(If you can't beat us then join us.)
Get on the team; street sweepers, grenades, rafts, and M-1 cambiums.

Uh, uh, a element of surprise getting my gig on.
Split yo' house in half, with a dreadlock wig on.
When you do ya hot ones, shoot locus.
It's the reflection program dinner rolls; automatic hit the floor.
Dump, bust, blast, bare faces.
Strike, dip, mass like a mental patient.
Run, quick, fast, and in a hurry; (biatch)
Don't worry, forty vision ain't blurry.

It's like military issues; make you wish you never got an example.
Stalking *****s like a ***** do.
Can only ride so long with that fake ****; I take ****
To the limit with no gimmick, in ninety-eight, *****.
So **** what you say, and **** what you play.
I down it straight, and can't wait to hear what you ***** *****s gotta say.
If I can't keep it real you can kill me, so feel me 'cause
I bring things to the game for my scuzzie.

We'll kick a *****'s door in; hit and lick you brags.
Now you ridding in a fan, pulled tight and gag.
Then they pullin' up out the Glad bags - the hefty type.
(But you *****s ain't got no kind of idea what a chopped up body looks like.)
Then them *****s start to pull down your Levis,
And bust you in the head with ruggard P 85's.
Call a mortician; call mark class somebody in this ************.
'Bout to come up missin'; best believe.

(Causing Havoc's, marking up chaos, bringing the ruckus,
Ghetto metal heathens, mobbing under bucks.
(If you can't beat us then join us.)
Get on the team; street sweepers, grenades, rafts, and M-1 cambiums.

(Causing Havoc's, marking up chaos, bringing the ruckus,
Ghetto metal heathens, mobbing under bucks.
(If you can't beat us then join us.)
Get on the team; street sweepers, grenades, rafts, and M-1 cambiums.

Bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout.
Bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout, bout.


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Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group
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