Hope I Dont Go Back Lyrics by E-40

Hope I Dont Go Back Lyrics

    [e-40 having a playalistic converstaion]
    Hoppin over barbed wire fences nigga
    Had this one broad right, she was so damn sprung
    She used to hold my motherfuckin.. motherfuckin sac nigga!
    Thought you though, nigga
    And a motherfuckin.. v.h.s., uhh motherfuckin cannister
    Nigga, yeah ay, i promise you nigga this game been so damn good
    (said this rap game's been good to me)
    Hard times
    (but i don't know how long that's gonna be..)

    *chorus: repeat 2x*
    Hope i don't go back to slangin ya-yo
    Slangin llello, to get my maillll

    Verse one: e-40

    Been a hustler since birth, mama sellin dinners for the church
    Red-handed, caught me stealin money out her purse
    Got branded, permanent whip scars on my back
    Cause i used to get beat, with racing car tracks
    But now me got wealth, holdin a conference call on my
    Hands free car telephone lookin like i'm talkin to myself
    Shootin the breeze cuttin it up real smooth like
    Choppin it up like true business men
    Talkin about it, by the way
    B - what we doin' this week on soundscan?
    If i ain't in japan, i'm in the valley
    Or maybe next door in gary payton bowling alley
    Or maybe at the shootin range, me and banks
    Or on the golf course, with merton hanks
    Or we lay in the sun, give me my propers
    With a beat that's out of this world, lookin down on doctors
    Sippin on port, watchin my kids play basketball
    In the backyard on a 40 by 63 foot long sports court

    *chorus*

    Verse two: e-40

    Business spot up in the wilderness, coyotes and wild boars
    Dupont registry aluminum pool table made strictly for outdoors
    Twenty inch gold super bravos on my ? everybody ain't able
    To be blessed with success with an independent-ass record label
    Check it out, marbles, i got the game from my uncle saint char-les
    Used to bank across the street at wells fargo
    But now it's merrill lynch
    And just think, i used to sit the bench
    I remember gettin chased by the cops, had to get my stomach pumped
    Full of a quarter ounce of rocks, late afternoon
    Po-po waitin for me outside of vallejo kaiser permanente
    Emergency room with glocks, ready to rodney king me to death
    Somehow i managed to make my escape through
    The back of the cafeteria by the vending machine department quickly
    Found myself runnin through the friendship apartment complex
    Over there by the railroad tracks, around the corner from the
    People's continuation high school
    Somewhere off in lofas, behind je-nai's liquor ooh

    *chorus*

    Verse three: e-40

    Get my mail, check it out, dope game ain't goin
    Now it seems the, white-collared crimes, are hookin up phones
    "charlie hustle, i got a few mathmatics
    I'm doing a compilation, should i go with phunky phat graph-x?
    I tell them, "hell yeah that's a done deal, dude them be off the hinges
    Dude them did my cover and my bus benches"
    Game warrior invested, worldwide sick-wid-it shit, independent chips
    Beyoooooooootch!

    Ay see ay, i'ma tell you nigga
    That's the thing about this whole thing that jump off
    It's a fool cause a muh'fucka take his bloody money right
    Until he sit up there and he look and he say
    "hold on man, hold on man"
    A muh'fucka, yknowmsayin?
    You can either be at this shit
    Or you can be gone with this shit
    And you look at it and then he say, "man hold on
    Let me translate this shit - let me translate into some marbles
    Let me liquidate my motherfuckin revenelles"
    You understand what i'm sayin? 40-water now, you understand?
    Ay, ay, but look, check this out
    I'm here to sprinkle motherfuckers, lace they tennis shoes
    Teach them about the motherfuckin game-orienfested situations
    That goes down in the motherfuckin motherfuckin soils weepolations
    I ain't bullshittin niggaz!

    [overlaps chorus]
    .. i don't bullshit!
    I ain't bullshittin nigga!

    *chorus*

    [singer] there's too many jealous brothers in this game
    I can't stany the same... i gotta get mine

    *chorus*

    [singer] get my money on..
    Don't wanna go, don't wanna go, don't wanna go
    Don't wanna go back - back to the game, heyyyy

    [e-40] to get your mail, beyoooooootch!

SEARCH LYRICS