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Correct Rat Heads Lyrics
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E-40
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Correct Rat Heads
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Rat heads get nothin but cheese y'all (The nigga that talks, he's a bitch) 4x [ verse 1 ] Would you look, would you listen Niggas be snitchin, talkin, rattin All up in the joint, man, singin, chattin Talkin all that old really fruitful riff-raff-ass shit, mayn Speakin on every nigga in the muthafuckin dope game He's scared like a mice Po-po's talkin about 25 to life But real niggas do the time, and pay the price, though Rat heads give up game to the vice, you know Trick sap wanna hang hisself like a dick Just because he got popped with a half a zip Chow time, niggas rush for the vittles But rat head wants to the talk to the po-pos Get me outta here, dude, I'm losin weight stressin So they offer that man some police protection He couldn't be from the Hillside or the south Cause my side of town don't go runnin off at the mouth Mickey Mouse spilled his guts He said, "They all drive Chevys and Cuts'" But they let him out without a doubt Nothin-ass nigga, he straight ratted us out [ verse 2 ] But since he sang such a good song The pigs even gave his ass a ride home The blind mice couldn't read braille They made him sit in the front seat, and drove him all over Vallejo Popo's gives up no slack, all through the dope tracks Lettin this shit really be known, jack To get a bit too far, kind of ridiculously Handed the rat some money, and said, "Nnow you work for me" He was all for the scratch, see, and just like a batch, gee The nigga played the role of a pussy Little old peck, crevas-faced faggot Nigga sold out, and now he wears a snitch jacket On the turf they wants to get with his P. G. But it'll draw too much heat, so they wait patiently He won't be seen no time soon Cause in the V-Town he's doomed Packed up and straight cut to susun Got in the grill with all the hoods and thugs Expressin, "I'm from the V-Town, duke 707" Niggas and bitches was trippin and shit, havin a fit He said, "I even know E-40 and the fuckin Click" They damn near shitted, boss Not knownin that the nigga was lyin his ass off Meanwhile, back in Vallejo Brothers gettin knocked for possession of sale The other races get away clean, brother But niggas, we always gotta rat on each other [ verse 3 ] A party jumps off on Blueberg Street Vallejo niggas in that muthafucka hella deep No funk, no static, nobody's thinkin about a war We got Grump in the house, Rhythm X, and hoes galore Baththub full of liqor and wine M. D. 20/20, Ever Clear, and Rossi wine All the danksters gather up They play the five second game. Hold it in, and get stupid stuck Hoes gettin poked in the backroom Fools goin home smellin like perfume Nothin but ballers from different towns A house full of Nino Browns Shootin pool, playin craps and dominos Niggas jackin off decks and five point o's It's all good, cause nobody gives a fuck But look who pops up (The nigga that talks, he's a bitch) Vallejo niggas yelled out (Snitch!) Mobbed his ass, beat him down to the dirt And straight went bezerk
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