Late Nighter - B-Legit, E-40

Yeah… boy, that’s some old mob shit right there, boy

Yeah, it is, though

You know it’s a drought on that mob shit, boy

Yeah, but we comin' through though

Ay Legit, nigga, this your tape, fool

What’s up, pimp sav?

I want you to let loose on they asshole

Let muthafuckas know what’s going down, yeah…

They say it’s last call for the liquor

So let me get a Tanqueray and lime, please

And don’t forget the lemon squeeze (the lemon squeeze)

I gotta warm up the deuce, let loose in the lot

There’s a fool tryna mob his old school

He’s unaware, though, I got the 454

And the flow that’ll get in his asshole

So I step to my drop-top

I gotta write my name on top of the blacktop (the blacktop)

And I’m the cleanest thing I’ve seen on Zeens and the Daytons

And watch me get it sideways (sideways)

And smash to the right ‘til it’s cloudy

I turn a few tight ones then I’m Audi

Think I better bounce to the station

I fill my tank and then I bank to Nation’s (to Nation’s)

‘Cause after he club ends, the bitches be lovin'

To meet my type (What are we supposed to call you?)

The later nighter

(The late nighter) The late nighter

(The late nighter) The late nighter

(The late nighter) The muthafuckin' late nighter

(The muthafuckin' late nighter)

Yeah, boy (Ay, tell me something though, boy)

What’s that?

(What happens after that, though?)

Oh, after that?

(Yeah)

Check it out, it goes like this…

We get to the spot and then we backs in (backs in)

You see the muthafuckin' deuce be attractin' (be attractin')

Bitches be jockin' and niggas that jack

That’s why I never leave home without the strap

(Gotta keep a strap)

I’m bumpin' cool ass E, he’s going «Federal»

I got the 15's slammin' something terrible

And right about now I see so many bodies

You would think I was giving me a block party (a block party)

Some look good, and some look stank

And me and my sahobs was dankin' and drankin'

Thinking of a master plan

How me and my potna E-Deuce could get these hoes juiced (juiced)

I hoppred in the load, I start spinnin' the Vogues

And E told ‘em to follow the O

We made a left and then a right’a

(Ay, where y’all finna serve ‘em at, though?)

The overnighter, with the late nighter

(The late nighter) The late nighter

(The late nighter) The late nighter

(The late nighter) The late nighter

The muthafuckin' late nighter

(The muthafuckin' late nighter)

Yeah, boy, they say it ain’t nothin' but legs open after 2, though

(Ay, boy, you know what? You’ve been a cockhound for years and years though

Ay, tell me some more, though)

Now me and my potna is some damn fools

Doing this shit like the old school (like the old school)

One big room, and two young freaks

And ain’t wasting no time to get in the sheets (yeah)

I got undressed, and started the contest

I wanna see who could cum the best (yeah)

And man, you shoulda seen her, ‘cause baby was a screamer

Riding the dick like the shit was a Beamer

She musta hit Broadway and got in a wreck

‘Cause her head went back and damn near broke her neck

I said, «Check, you like black ones?»

(test, test)

She said, «Yeah, ‘cause they make me bust fat ones» (bust fat ones)

Legit was a boss, I knew I had her tossed

So I’ma try to get her for a new Marcross

And when she wakes, I just might’a (might'a)

Leave her a number (What's your name?)

From the late nighter

(The late nighter) The late nighter

(The late nighter) The late nighter

(The late nighter) The late nighter

The muthafuckin' late nighter

(The muthafuckin' late nighter)

Yeah, boy, tearing shit up, boy, for the 9-deuce

(For the 9-deuce, though, on they ass)

Legitimate B and 40 Water, mayne

(‘93 on that asshole, too, though)

Yeah (Yeah)

I wonder if they feel us, though

(They don’t feel us, though, boy

Ay, check it out, we in this muthafucka pervin' like a muthafucka, boy)

And that’s real, boy

(It's real, boy; it’s real; it’s real, boy; it’s real)

It’s real, boy;

it’s real

(Yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh)

Ay, we in this muthafucka, man

(Uh-huh) Yeah… comin' through for the ‘92

'93, '94…'95, '96, uh, '97, '98, uh, yeah…

The year 2000, boy…