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e 40 - dusted 'n' disgusted lyrics

i’m really not all that sure
’bout when things is finna mature
so let me find me a n-gg- with a grip
and hit his -ss quick with one of them wh-r-s
(what’s the definition of a lick?)
taking a n-gg-z sh-t
(hey, put that on sumthin’)
i put that on the click, the click

back to f-ckin’ work one of the homies jus’ got dusted
time to do some dirt, uh!, i never trusted
them bustas shot him in the shirt, dead on arrival
now the town is funky, it’s called survival
what y’all wanna do? they got us scuffled
(bullet high, get in your eye)
if this was a fifth well i be drunk
i’m heated, them n-gg-z cheated, played me false
we had a meetin’, sh-t ‘posed to been squashed

i know this one b-tch that’ll double dribble and set ’em up y’all
she likes the monies in the middle, play tether ball
thick -ss b-tch, high yellow city-slicker
scarecrow crevice southern b-tches, aka posies p-ssyfictious

n-gg- been holdin’ guts, but sh-t on his self and a funky bill
pullin’ out bills, frontin’ on material sh-t
that’s when i get to killin’ sh-t
(killin’ sh-t)
and settin’ i’m up and havin’ i’m catchin’ a couple of slugs
sl-uh sl-uh slugs, trynta f-ck with savage thug

pistol pop in they -ss, see n-gg-z be gettin’ this twisted
it’s that b-tch that killed ya
took all your money peeled ya
seven n-gg-z bust in the room with ak’s
while a n-gg- be puttin’ on his jimmy
all of a sudden they shoot up your vuitton
before you can hit the broccoli

see money-a-made that n-gg-, that n-gg- didn’t make that money
left them n-gg-z jacked up, and the b-tch she macked him
he’s a busta, punk -ss n-gg-, y’all know the streets
that’s why that n-gg- naked layin’ dead in between some bl–dy sheets
it’s just a part of the game he didn’t feel
b-tches will kill, f-ck a n-gg-, out his last d-uh dollar bill
you don’t know that hoe main that b-tch can’t be trusted
dusted and di-motherf-ckin’-sgusted

it’s some cold hearted sh-t
(back to f-ckin work, one of the homies jus’ got dusted)
whacha’ll wanna do, whacha’ll wanna do
cold hearted b-tches
(back to f-ckin work, one of the homies jus’ got dusted)
whacha’ll wanna do, i never trusted them bustas

some cold hearted sh-t
(back to f-ckin’ work, one of the homies jus’ got dusted)
i never trusted them bustas
and it’s them cold hearted n-gg-s
(back to f-ckin’ work, one of the homies jus’ got dusted)
dusted ‘n’ disgusted

let’s let of some 203’s on the other side of t-uh-town
draw the attention on the other s-uh-side of town
(other side of town)
and wait for the po-po shift to change, ghetto shootin’ range
revenge on the r-uh-rebound, war games
droughts, ouch, lost clientele but i will prevail
by sellin’ the broccoli dank instead of the crack cocaine
try not to steal narcotics
when these punk mc’s and b-tches be the reason why
the smoke be comin’ up out the chow, with my n-gg- pac

dear god, can you forgive me? my future’s lookin’ sick
i’m in my rag hittin’ switches i’m suspicious of this b-tch
i keep on, callin’, but ain’t n-body pickin’ up
i think she’s stallin’, this evil b-tch is tryin’ to set me up
came all alone if it’s on then it’s on
bust my motherf-ckin’ chrome, on these jealous n-gg-z dome
it’s a war zone but i’m a man so with gun in hand
(war zone)
i’m on my way to see this hoe you know the f-ckin’ plan

can’t understand, but the things ain’t the same
you could die over these b-tches if you slippin’ in the game
n-gg-z gang bang, but b-tches gang bang too
give up that good thang, and put that pistol to your brain
if you was smart figure, don’t have no love in your heart n-gg-
any complications pull the trigger, dusted and disgusted
b-tches can’t be trusted, you know the rules
they underhanded, she planned it, you f-ckin’ fool

these hoes out here tryin’ to hold a n-gg-‘s heart
so a n-gg- get his motherf-ckin’
b-lls to the wall
hey be proud of it when you turn these b-tches upside down
what’s gonna happen
uhh, three and a half dollars or probably fo’ if a b-tch ridin’
yeah main, them hoes talented
they be f-ckin’ with mo’ mc’s than jack the rapper
aight f-ck it, what you say mall?
ay, f-ck them sheisty -ss botches, n-gg-

the california lifestyle that i live
where the b-tches is crooked and n-gg-z jus’ don’t give
a flyin’ f-ck, so i stay stuck, smokin’ on the tay-low
bay area playa, tryin’ ta have sh-t major
and a b-tch won’t save ya
so i ain’t playin’ captain save a hoe
i mob up in ya like a pro and then i’m gone
i’m like sylvester stallone, everyday is like a cliffhanger
action packed, i let the mini-mac smack that -ss

them hoes jacked that -ss
n-gg- woulda got smokin’ on that hash
can’t have my cash, better go and take your n-gg- stash
‘cuz he’s a busta, n-gg-z with cl-sters
slippin’ in sh-t, betta jack that n-gg- ‘fore i jack his -ss b-tch
never was no love for the mark–ss, the lo pink
(the lo pink)
you love them bootys b-tches, can’t let them p-ssy b-tches

gank that -ss, betta hide your cash and check or p-ss
pump your brakes n-gg-, slow your roll don’t go too fast
’cause bulletproof ain’t doin’ no good no mo’ no mo’ no mo’ no mo’
now, n-gg-z comin’ up dead with they brains blew out on the f-ckin’ floor
d-mn, h-lla force to the face teflons to the vest now r-uh-rest
pull a plug on a flat line no p-uh-ulse, one n-gg- less
one n-gg- less, from coast to coast, to the east to the west
crushin’ the flesh, dem b-tches played a game of death
look over your shoulder watch your back don’t even trust it
i’m tryin’ to told ya end up dusted

- e 40 lyrics

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