"Meet The Dealers" lyrics - E-40 & B-LEGIT

E-40 & B-LEGIT
"Meet The Dealers"
feat. Stresmatic

[Verse 1: E-40]
In the Bay, the streets is polluted, unsanitized
Why stay? They'll turn your potato to French Fries
AK, homicides, fuck around and get neutralized
Savage, uncivilized, get in your shit like some flies
Pull a bitch like a trailer without the hitch
She want my dick between both of her lips
She like my outfit, my status, my personality
Took her to the telly, skeeted on her cavity

[Verse 2: B-Legit]
I put it on my nana, clip game bananas
Choppa got a cooler, pistol got the bandanna
B-la got a scanner, hammer in some hoes
Blowin' on exotic, she been playin' with her nose
We on tippy-toes, pose for the 'Gram
She do it for the fam, baby know the game plan
Hit before I scram, put her in the jam
Supposed to have the back, but I was in there going HAM

[Chorus: Stresmatic]
Meet the dealers
All real niggas, no squealers
Thirty on the bottom, .40 cal potato peelers
We them guys
Not like them, we're realer
I'm in here with the vacuum sealer
Meet the dealers
All real niggas, no squealers
Thirty on the bottom, .40 cal potato peelers
We them guys
Not like them, we're realer
I'm in here with the vacuum sealer

[Verse 3: E-40 & B-Legit]
Beanie cap rolled up, sittin' on top of the head
Pistol filled up, little niggas about they bread
She gon' hol' up, that's what his pimp partner said
We gon' blow up, and buy a big-ass crib
Saucy, they offer me bricks and broomsticks
Hits from the dab, you know how mad these fools get
Maps of the pad got your bitch in the pool with
Bosses and they topless playin' around with pool sticks
Another day go when I was headed to the store
To buy some backwoods to smoke my turtle
I saw this buster that owed me a couple dollars or something
At first I was about to let the shit go, but no
This nigga on go, he acting hella ampy
Like I ain't the chef, you know I shrimp scampy
I put him in the mix, shoot him in his dick
Don't ever fuck around with the family

[Chorus: Stresmatic]
Meet the dealers
All real niggas, no squealers
Thirty on the bottom, .40 cal potato peelers
We them guys
Not like them, we're realer
I'm in here with the vacuum sealer
Meet the dealers
All real niggas, no squealers
Thirty on the bottom, .40 cal potato peelers
We them guys
Not like them, we're realer
I'm in here with the vacuum sealer

[Verse 4: B-Legit & E-40]
I Die Hard, drive cars with no OnStar
Spend the night with a pornstar
She got her own bar, keep my weed in the clothes drawer
And roll 'em up, she got handle bars
Annually, there's four quarters in twelve months, listen here
There's eight thousand, seven hundred and sixty hours in a year
There's 28 grams in a zip of nasal candy, right?
A thousand gigabytes in a terabyte
Long nights in the summertime, still count money
Hard top rain, like to drop it when it's sunny
And you can ask Sonny, 'cause he the bus driver
Clever like MacGyver with a stash box inside her
We livin' in a world where the unexpected became expected
Real shit? Niggas disrespect it
Seconds can mean the difference between life and death
Every day, I wake up and open my eyes, I'm blessed...BIATCH!

[Chorus: Stresmatic]
Meet the dealers
All real niggas, no squealers
Thirty on the bottom, .40 cal potato peelers
We them guys
Not like them, we're realer
I'm in here with the vacuum sealer
Meet the dealers
All real niggas, no squealers
Thirty on the bottom, .40 cal potato peelers
We them guys
Not like them, we're realer
I'm in here with the vacuum sealer
Meet the dealers