Do What You Know Good Lyrics by E-40

Do What You Know Good Lyrics

    [e-40]
    Freak nasty super bad, earring in her tongue
    Smell good, prada bag, angel perfume cologne
    I'm tryin to have me that, lipstick by mac
    Make like a car accident, hit her from the back
    My fetti might be salty but my game ain't damp, see i be hood(?)
    But the only cheese i ever had, was from the goods
    And man that was divided among (?) brothers and sisters
    Raised without a dad
    Basically we was supposed to be have to make good
    But what we hadn't (?) get the gat from one of my (?)
    On the tough, uncle bruce(?)
    Hustle in my veins and lungs, sucker pump
    Chickenheads squash through my hood, with good intentions
    But always end up sparkin antennas on bus benches
    Watchu know, whatchu say, what's the sco'?
    Is it a go? then you with me after the show
    You smell? we hit the hotel, and knock boots
    Taught me some thangs, like who? like dr. ruth
    Hey!! (hey!!) hoe!! (hoe!!)
    All up in the kitchen on the flo', feel the mantra

    Chorus: repeat 2x {sung}

    Do what you do good, cause you know what you know good
    Do what you do good, cause you know what you know good
    [do what you know good]

    [e-40]
    Uhh, rappers sport my style like they sport clothes
    Then have the nerve to say they made it up, now that's some hoes
    That ain't no stickin to the rules and regulationship
    That ain't no man if he can't admit he grew up on the click
    On the east they got hot dogs and pretzel stands
    On the west they got tacos and burrito vans
    In the south, it's (??) and briscuit
    What about the midwest? the midwest, dey just love to kick it!
    Top shelf, ghetto tycoon the area sponsor
    Can't be seen, like bigfoot, and the loch ness monster
    Dialin for dollars paper route and money counters
    Scrilla scratchin paper chasin poppin collars

    Chorus

    [singer]
    Do what i know good
    I kick it in the hood real good
    Smoke real fat big blunts
    Sticky-ickies to the lil' krunks
    Thirty-one double-eight-seven, that's nine-eleven
    Act like you're livin

    [e-40]
    I ain't no captain
    At the bar, signin autographs on napkins
    Ball til we have it all - bartender talkin about
    "last call for alcohol!"
    I'm bout to get to, mashin on that (??)
    If we don't get no mo' (??) throw glasses at that moesha fag
    And i'm walkin up out the do', step stuck and stutterin
    Didn't even screw up and hit the floor
    If i woulda fell, it woulda been embarassing
    Full of that there liquor, walked into a closet
    But i'm a king size nigga, baby pull my coattail! and just..

    Chorus

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