It’s On, On Sight – E-40 – letras

(*Screeching tires, gunshots, broken glass, sirens and screaming*)Yeah (3x)[E-40]They want problems; soon them want me waxed, contracts on my assIt’s comin from the pen, they say I owe ’em cashDwellin off the past and they need it fastBut what they fai’lize is I’ll be quick to blastDie hard cold blooded killer all about my workDressed up like a female in a mini-skirtSpecialize in doin dirt – shootin niggaz in the shirtPut the pistol in his mouth and make it hurt, oohCutlass, guzzlin down a 40-ounce bottle of Swiss malt liquor brewskytalkin to a cutie standin outside the movie theatersittin on top of the hood of my CutlassSmokin on a non-filter pink pack colored edition cigaretteClove-family affiliated cancer stick lookin +GANESH+ beadieWhat the fuck? W here’s the peace treaty?Full of my Wheaties, yes indeedy, M-16’s don’t shoot no beebeesProgrammed to amputate anything that gets off in my wayThen I put them same size left over bullets up in my A.K.I can’t wait ’til we bump headsChorus:It on, on sight day and night no matter what I’m dumpin’I’m tryin to see you niggas ’bout somethin’ (2x) »I’m heated, them niggas cheated » – 3X (in background)We had a meetin’, shit ‘posed to been squashed (3x)Shit was ‘posed to been squashed[E-40]I’ve got a hunch; meet me at the Olive Garden spot let’s do lunchFool and dem tried to pass the buck and set us up for lumpsSons of bitches must think we some chumpsTime to break out the pipe bombs and the pumps[C-Bo]Nigga fuck stress and pull lick, we kick in the door with full clipsOut of Magnums packin when we blast ’em we all out for the chipsFOol, 40-Water never slip, saw the niggaz quick and then dippedBefore we spark the pipe bombs, and blow them niggaz shit toside-ways up off they block, poppin gears in a big blockAll out non stop riders until our casket dropWe smashin, blastin on any, while I remember manyDash and blastin double two-three’s, fuck the enemiesChorus[E-40]One of my big dudes up out HPA shot me a kite todayHe up in Pelican Bay three strikerDoin 25 with a L cause he won’t tell on one of hishigh-ranked dudes in position who wears a diaperWith the shit stacked on the side of his waistblood splattered all on the windshield wiperSomebody tried to take his face – caught him up in his ViperLoose as a goose ass out tried to down him like a sniperhyperventilated started havin’ seizuresNo feelings in his legs, arms, or his sneakers[C-Bo]We stand tall, like Manute Bol with bigger balls than RuPaulStrapped with 4-4’s down to execute all y’allDon’t want to see us niggas on a mission150 round drum 45 slugs bittenNo remorse hit by the hardcore fo’ sho’Leave him stuck in his front seat70 rounds through his front windowAin’t no fuckin’ with G’sFill ’em up to they neck from they kneesLeave ’em dyin’ in the street as we escape on they goldeeze