Hope I Don't Go Back Lyrics - E-40

Hoppin over barbed wire fences nigga 

Had this one broad right, SHE was so damn sprung 

She used to hold my motherfuckin. motherfuckin sack, nigga! 

Thought you thought, nigga 

In a motherfucking VHS, uh. motherfucking canister 

Nigga, yeah ay, I promise you nigga this game been so damn good 

(Said this rap game's been good to me) 

Hard times 

(But I don't know how long that's gonna be.) 

Hope I don't go back to slangin yayo 

Slangin yayo, to get my maillll 

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Been a hustler since birth, mama sellin dinners for the church 

Red-handed, caught me stealin money out her purse 

Got branded, permanent whip scars on my back 

Cause I used to get beat, with racing car tracks 

But now me got wealth, holdin a conference call on my 

Hands free car telephone lookin like I'm talkin to myself 

Shootin the breeze cuttin it up real smooth like 

Choppin it up like true business men 

Talkin about it, by the way 

B - what we doin' this week on SoundScan? 

If I ain't in Japan, I'm in the Valley 

Or maybe next door in Gary Payton bowling alley 

Or maybe at the shootin range, me and Banks 

Or on the golf course, with Merton Hanks 

Or we lay in the sun, give me my propers 

With a beat that's out of this world, lookin down on doctors 

Sippin on Port, watchin my kids play basketball 

In the backyard on a 40 by 63 foot long sports court 

Biatch! 

Photos 

Business spot up in the wilderness, coyotes and wild boars 

Dupont registry aluminum pool table made strictly for outdoors 

Twenty inch gold super Bravos on my? everybody ain't able 

To be blessed with success with an independent-ass record label 

Check it out, marbles, I got the game from my Uncle Saint Char-les 

Used to bank across the street at Wells Fargo 

But now it's Merrill Lynch 

And just think, I used to sit the bench 

I remember gettin chased by the cops, had to get my stomach pumped 

Full of a quarter ounce of rocks, late afternoon 

Po-po waitin for me outside of Vallejo Kaiser Permanente 

Emergency room with Glocks, ready to Rodney King me to death 

Somehow I managed to make my escape through 

The back of the cafeteria by the vending machine department quickly 

Found myself runnin through the Friendship Apartment Complex 

Over there by the railroad tracks, around the corner from the 

People's Continuation High School 

Somewhere off in Lofas, behind Je-nai's Liquor ooh 

Get my mail, check it out, dope game ain't goin 

Now it seems the, white-collared crimes, are hookin up phones 

"Charlie Hustle, I got a few mathmatics 

I'm doing a compilation, should I go with Phunky Phat Graph-X? 

I tell them, "Hell yeah that's a done deal, dude them be off the hinges 

Dude them did my cover and my bus benches" 

Game warrior invested, worldwide Sick-Wid-It shit, independent chips 

BEYOOOOOOOOOTCH! 

Ay see ay, I'mma tell you nigga 

That's the thing about this whole thing that 

Jump off 

It's a fool cause a muh'fucka take his bloody money right 

Until 

He sit up there and he look and he say 

"Hold on man, hold on man" 

Muh'fucka, yknowmsayin? 

You can either be at this shit 

Or you can be gone 

With this shit 

And you look at it and then he say, "Man hold on 

Let me translate this shit - let me translate into some marbles 

Let me liquidate my motherfuckin revenelles" 

You understand what I'm sayin? 40-Water now, you understand? 

Ay, ay, but look, check this out 

I'm here to sprinkle motherfuckers, lace they tennis shoes 

Teach them about the motherfuckin game-orienfested situations 

That goes down in the motherfuckin motherfuckin soils weepolations 

I ain't bullshittin niggas! 

I don't bullshit! 

I ain't bullshittin nigga! 

There's too many jealous brothers in this game 

I can't stany the same I gotta get mine 

Get my money on 

Don't wanna go, don't wanna go, don't wanna go 

Don't wanna go back - back to the game, heyyyy 

To get your mail, BEYOOOOOOOTCH!