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Correct Stack It To The Ceiling Lyrics
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Artists: E
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E-40
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Correct Stack It To The Ceiling
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[Verse 1: E-40] Ever since I woke up this morning, I've been on Twist the cap up off my weed jar, and smoked a cone Took a shower and got gone in the wind, like Steve Wynn I'm from the streets of California where we be hustlin and grittin' Gettin' that women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and stackin' Wheelin' and dealin' and makin' a killin' trying to hit a million Perkin' and illin' and drinkin' and chillin' in front of the apartment building Packin' and totin' and toast the lean oh what a feelin' He's a fraudulent, I'm immaculate He a simp, he a sap, he irrelevant I'm a boss, I'm a factor, I'm a hundred percent I'm a hustler like Larry Flynt Getting money's my habit, I stay in the traffic Papered up like a tablet, my bankroll is massive If I walked in a loser, mayne I'm gonna walk out a winner I ball like a hooper man, papered up like a printer I ain't wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed Mental health, argue with my conscience cursin' out myself My psychologist got a psychologist, neurologist too I'm one of one, I'm not like you [Hook: E-40] x 2 Act like you know Dippin' and bobbin' and weavin' In and out of traffic, from the morning to the evening Trying to get my paper right, my nigga Stack it to the ceiling [Verse 2: E-40] Drinking and blowing on some good bud Smokin' on a strain you never heard of Exclusive shit, I got it from my plugs You drop my weed on my rug That's twenty pushups, that's a party foul You can do 'em later or do 'em now I don't allow (who?) Aliens around me, that's a no-no They'll try to sneak me and turn my brains into adobo Rarely see me solo, if you do I'm not Best believe E-40 with his .45 Glock I'm ADHD, need something to calm my nerves You libel to find me at my kid's teacher's meeting smellin' like herb I stay plastered, but I'm all about my paper Liquor aroma, that's me in the elevator More whips than Auto Trader, that's what I got Driveway, looks like a car lot My bite is stronger than my bark Thought you thought, heart Bitch you full of shit like a dog park Mark ass poodle, square as a cubicle Weirdo, unusual Why do suckas, be all in a real one's business? While these sideline niggas be always trying to count a hustler's chizznips Flappin' their lizznips like some bitches, man they saps Dudes be running their mouth like that, we call 'em quack-quacks That's how a bitch gets smack-smacked Shot in the naps, clapped Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't even bring 'em back (bitch) [Hook] x 2 Act like you know Dippin' and bobbin and weavin' In and out of traffic, from the morning to the evening Trying to get my paper right, my nigga Stack it to the ceiling …to the ceiling
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