E-40 - Rat Heads Lyrics
Rat heads get nothin but cheese yall(the nigga that talks, hes a *****) 4x[ verse 1 ]Would you look, would you listenNiggas be snitchin, talkin, rattinAll up in the joint, man, singin, chattinTalkin all that old really fruitful riff-raff-ass shit, maynSpeakin on every nigga in the mutha*****in dope gameHes scared like a micePo-pos talkin about 25 to lifeBut real niggas do the time, and pay the price, thoughRat heads give up game to the vice, you knowTrick sap wanna hang hisself like a dickJust because he got popped with a half a zipChow time, niggas rush for the vittlesBut rat head wants to the talk to the po-posGet me outta here, dude, Im losin weight stressinSo they offer that man some police protectionHe couldnt be from the hillside or the southCause my side of town dont go runnin off at the mouthMickey mouse spilled his gutsHe said, they all drive chevys and cutsBut they let him out without a doubtNothin-ass nigga, he straight ratted us out[ verse 2 ]But since he sang such a good songThe pigs even gave his ass a ride homeThe blind mice couldnt read brailleThey made him sit in the front seat, and drove him all over vallejoPopos gives up no slack, all through the dope tracksLettin this shit really be known, jackTo get a bit too far, kind of ridiculouslyHanded the rat some money, and said, nnow you work for meHe was all for the scratch, see, and just like a batch, geeThe nigga played the role of a *****Little old peck, crevas-faced faggotNigga sold out, and now he wears a snitch jacketOn the turf they wants to get with his p.g.But itll draw too much heat, so they wait patientlyHe wont be seen no time soonCause in the v-town hes doomedPacked up and straight cut to susunGot in the grill with all the hoods and thugsExpressin, Im from the v-town, duke 707Niggas and *****es was trippin and shit, havin a fitHe said, I even know e-40 and the *****in clickThey damn near shitted, bossNot knownin that the nigga was lyin his ass offMeanwhile, back in vallejoBrothers gettin knocked for possession of saleThe other races get away clean, brotherBut niggas, we always gotta rat on each other[ verse 3 ]A party jumps off on blueberg streetVallejo niggas in that mutha*****a hella deepNo funk, no static, nobodys thinkin about a warWe got grump in the house, rhythm x, and hoes galoreBaththub full of liqor and wineM.d. 20/20, ever clear, and rossi wineAll the danksters gather upThey play the five second game. hold it in, and get stupid stuckHoes gettin poked in the backroomFools goin home smellin like perfumeNothin but ballers from different townsA house full of nino brownsShootin pool, playin craps and dominosNiggas jackin off decks and five point osIts all good, cause nobody gives a *****But look who pops up(the nigga that talks, hes a *****)Vallejo niggas yelled out (snitch!)Mobbed his ass, beat him down to the dirtAnd straight went bezerk
