Cover art for What’s My Name by E-40

What’s My Name

Produced by

Mar. 26, 20121 viewer

What’s My Name Lyrics

[Hook]
Tell me when to go like my name E-40
(What's my muthafuckin' name?)


[Verse 1]
Champion hoodie and bean cap, b-boy attire
Every promoter and their partner got my name on they flyer
I'm on this bubba kush right now, higher than a hiker
My folk's fresh back from the mountains and he got that fire
Feeling good like you should, liquor in my cup
Understood, I'm in the hood like an ice cream truck
[?] jug, spin with me man, I'll hook you up
'Cause I could give you more bang for your buck
Pro politics, property, puzzle pieces pertaining paper
Proceeding profit pockets per digm prosperous promise
Putting the b's in the pockets, proof in the pudding
You probably think that you can but you probably shouldn't
Alice Sylverstein collection watch, biatch
Don't ask me how much this muthafucka cost
You stepping off dollars for pennies
I'm stepping off pennies for dollars
You dealing with hoes on they periods
I'm dealing with hustlers and commas

[Hook]
E-40
So tell me when to go like my name E-40
(What's my muthafuckin' name?)

[Verse 2]
My Camaro's souped up, and I ain't talking about Campbell's
Speakers in the crib, and in the door panels
Detachable steering wheel in case they try to steal
Light you up like a candle with my spring steel
Rifle for rival, built for survival
It's wacko and homicidal out here in the bay
Pack 90's and SK's, we living the last days
They calling the wrong plays, rolling over in their graves
Ancestors used to be slaves
I try to trust [?], love them to death
But they be the ones that stir up the most mess
I ask them how they doing and they holla out, "Blessed"
Pack an airgun, like they better than the next
I'm the rawest in it, I say the realest shit
Kick the sickest flow, I ain't gon' never quit
I started this independent shit so I'mma finish it
Been in it forever, for a grip, for a minute
BIATCH

[Hook]
E-40
So tell me when to go like my name E-40
(What's my muthafuckin' name?)


[Verse 3]
Stores, like a restaurant
I don't drink to drink, I drink to get drunk
I might eat the pink after I hit the blunt
Dick on hard like a penis pump
'Cause she got a big dump
Not the donk with slump, the donk I wanna hump
The type to stick and plunk with junk in her trunk
Hit it from the back and in the front
The function was bammer but we got it cracking
Shit was so quiet you could hear a spider piss on a napkin
Pockets on a diet, hell naw mayne, we stacking
Seemed like a riot the way the music had us acting

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Credits
Produced By
Written By
Mastering Engineer
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Recording Engineer
Mixing Engineer
Recorded At
The Orange Room
Release Date
March 26, 2012
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