"Hurricane" lyrics - THE CLICK

THE CLICK
"Hurricane"
(B. Jones / D. Stevens / E. Stevens / T.M. Stevens / M. Whitemon / Marvin Whitemon)

[Intro: E-40]
It's just like moonshine, have you on your face
I mean, you'll be slutterin' and what not
Next thing you know, you don't know how you got home
I mean, this shit is so damn serious, playboy
I mean, the shit reminds me of Pruno or something like that, you dig what I say?
But anyway

[Verse 1: E-40 and B-Legit]
I'm so tore, look like my eyes been stitched together with stitches
Ho hoppin' around wit these bitches, get ya garbage dumped wit crickets
But you know me, the life of the party, Slurricane Ethyl
Too much of me and make ya fight ya folks and Dr. Jekyll
Like the other day I gulped too many swallows
Had them niggas actin' bad at the club wit them hollows
Havin' limp dick problems, tryna get it up
Well, oh well, one cup of me will have your shit on still
I wakes up in the mornin' and I'm separated
In the bag wit my homies and I sure hate it
Grenadine, he be trippin' 'cause they don't respect him
That nigga rum, man, that nigga gets dumb
I can't wait until they mix me
I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat, into they kidneys
Hurricane's havin' muthafucka's seein' thangs
Courage juice, watch when I get loose

[Chorus 2x: Suga-T]
Hurricane, but you can call me slurricane
Slurricane, strong enough to start a engine mayne

[Verse 2: D-Shot and Suga-T]
I'm pervin', swervin', fuckin' wit tycoon shit
Shit, it's time to swip up another mix
Smob to the sto', oh
It's 1:51, got to catch Charlie 'fore he close
Too many hoes at the studio that ain't lit
I likes to bring out the freak in a nasty bitch
Studio Ton, pop on that shit that 'vitti wrote
(Freaky, freak, freaky)
My crevice got hot, seat sweat and all
That Hurricane Ethyl ain't no joke, it'll make a playa fall
Creepy eyes on the stick he bought
Pump up fools, straight check 'em
Make 'em thinkin' men are all...
Nah nah, hit a beedy, can't be greedy, gotta stay strong
But if I get broken off a deal, I can't go wrong
This trick juice will have a fool on his face
Worse than that bumpy face gin with no fuckin' chase

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: B-Legit and E-40]
Light up the muthafuckin' indo weed
Me and my niggas at the bar keyed
Walkin' threw the joint on stumble
They bumpin' 'Da Bumble'
Face like I hate the taste, but now I'm humble
Whisper to a bitch, 'Baby I been watchin' you'
But when I'm pervin', everything be lookin' cute
So if you get the boot when my hangover sober
Don't even trip, get yo' shit out my Range Rover
I gets to put it how this Spanish fly ninety-fin
Influence yo' bitch to go both ways and eat her best friend
Shit locked down, muthafucka don't be carin'
Who ridin' wit my dank cousin Victor Baron
Hurricane, but you can call me slurricane
Strong enough to start a engine, mayne
BIOTCH
And that's what we do for the nineteen ninety-fin
And we out this biotch
Out this biotch

[Chorus 4x]