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    E-40 / Lyrics

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    "Pop Ya Collar" Lyrics

    E-40 feat. The Click

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    Duration:00:04:05
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    Lyrics

    Uh-huh, barbecue or mildew, hoe? Shit
    My fetti has a first name it's E A R L
    About my mail, shit
    Nigga you know I'm up in this motherfucker
    On a good one, fuck yes

    You know what I mean?
    It's like a, a Y 2 ,yeah thing you know?
    We does this out here fo' schizzie
    We pop our collars, please believe that playboy
    Like this here

    My moves is swift, I'm stiff with mine
    Remi Martin straight, then I hit it with lime
    It's time to shine, to strike my pose
    Five carats on my pinky, pickin' my nose, bitch

    I stroll on hoes and give 'em a chance
    To let me see the ass while they backup dance
    I glance and breeze if the body is true
    I'm off and on to part two, hell

    Now, I done scanned at the club
    (What else?)
    I popped my collar to all my folks with love
    (What else?)

    And all the niggaz that didn't respond to me
    (What else?)
    I got my dogs watchin' constantly
    (What else, what else?)

    With one hand in the baseball glove
    Hella throwaways and dangerous thugs
    For my protection and my protection only
    This boss balla slippin', whatchu thought I was phony?

    Fresh up out my Coupe de Ville, I popped my collar twice
    About my money this loot is real, plus I'm dipped in ice
    I got a fat mansion on the hill 'cause I made a mill
    So if you see me please believe 'cause I'm yo' partner still

    (Pop ya collar)
    It's all from the wrist
    (Pop ya collar)
    Been poppin' my collar since Moby was a goldfish

    Leavin' 'em curious
    Hoppin out of my Lincoln Continental, signature serious
    Parkin' lot pimpin'
    One of my niggaz yell, hold me down while I was pissin'
    Is that young 40 y'all? Drunk as fuck and about to fall?

    Done washed my shoes, the gators they bite
    Baby bright light but not my type
    But if she want tonight, she come with dollars
    She either holler, or pop a nigga collar

    I'm fresh up out that Coupe de Ville
    Four times gold on my vogue wheels
    Big sunroof with the insides ill
    Gotta give it to the boy he got skills

    Fresh up out my Coupe de Ville, I popped my collar twice
    About my money this loot is real, plus I'm dipped in ice
    I got a fat mansion on the hill 'cause I made a mill
    So if you see me please believe 'cause I'm your partner still

    (Pop ya collar)
    I done stepped on in
    (Pop ya collar)
    Now can I come up?

    All these freaks hang out at the dump
    Me and my dogs got this party on pump
    All the hoes look like they wanna hump
    I'm bout to pull a lil' lightweight stunt

    On a mizznission about that cut
    Rough, buck, smokin' on a blizznut
    Ticked, pucked, thinkin' that some was loc'd
    Dick, Van Dyke, all up in her truck

    Lick at night, E-Feezy ain't no punk
    Gobble, swallow, get her hella drunk
    40 ounce bizznottle, 'til I trump
    Tip, hollow, mizzmillimeter thump

    Feels no sinorrow for a sucka sap chump
    Ya underdig? Yeah just
    You know just tug on your lil' shirt
    Pull it a lil' bit

    Fresh up out my Coupe de Ville, I popped my collar twice
    About my money this loot is real, plus I'm dipped in ice
    I got a fat mansion on the hill 'cause I made a mill
    So if you see me please believe 'cause I'm yo' parter still

    Fresh up out my Coupe de Ville, I popped my collar twice
    About my money this loot is real, plus I'm dipped in ice
    I got a fat mansion on the hill 'cause I made a mill'
    So if you see me please believe 'cause I'm yo' partner still

    (Pop ya collar)
    Homeboy
    (Pop ya collar)
    This song was submitted on December 26th, 2009 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Kevin Duane Mccord, Brandt Jones, Earl T. Stevens, Dulon Stevens, Anthony Douglas Gilmour.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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