"Slummin'" lyrics - E-40

Showing up, showing out, making my presence known
Rolling up, smoking out, in a perfect fucking zone
Fast laning and slumming, you can hear this hustler coming
'Round the block with hell knock, cutting up, stunting
Middle finger out the sun roof, buckled up, not loose
Ready to catch a fade, ready to put up my fucking dukes
Read to squeeze and make a neck, like this bottle of Grey Goose
I ain't never cashed a check, just street nigga loot
Mannishness, foolery, rocking hella jewelry
Local superstar, you oughta see my car
Outta sight, up to par, came a long way hecka far
And I owe it to my triple beam and my pickle jar
There's macking in my DNA, make a bitch pay what she weight
Everyday a holiday, born and raised up in the yay
A polished young brother, never been a sucker
A sharp hustler, flyer than a crop duster

[Hook:]
We out here grittin 'bout gudda it's like a holiday
Standing out on the steps where my mama stay
Walking right up to the car, let's keep it coming
We out here slummin'

Trapping and checking my traps
Collecting and counting my racks
Steadily shooting craps, toting and packing gats
At the party double fisted, at the bar gettin' hella twisted
See that bitch right there? That's the homie bitch
But he don't know I'm hitting it
Little gutter chick, can't get enough of it
Strung out on my dick, she like to spit on it
Act classy but really a freak nasty
She like for me to nut on her cavity
It's game involved, I'm a damn fool
I'm the nigga, a fixture, my nigga I'm the dude
I've never been a big tipper I can be hella rude
Only thing I tip is my liquor and my brew
Boss status, smoking cabbage, living lavish, extra mannish
Profit flipping, flipping profit
Louis sipping, hustle-holic

[Hook]