[Intro: E-40]

707, bruh

[Chorus: E-40]

I'm throwin' up the V

The 707

She rollin' up the tree

The 707

Got a .223

Where you from, bruh?

From the 707

I'm throwin' up the V, bitch

From the 707

[Verse 1: E-40]

I'm a Hillside Kitty Walk nigga, of course

You bound to see a nigga do a drive-by on a horse

Country-city boy, big corn-fed nigga

Forty-ounce sipper, discount liquor

On the corner of Magazine and Sonoma Boulevard

Across the street from Grant Street, suicide backyard

Play them boys for false, fuck around and get stolen

They rep that shit hard, shout out to Soulin

I got the munchies 'cause I'm smokin' on a log

Went to Bridgeside for some Sac's hot dogs

I'm slappin' "Hubba Head," The Luvva Twins, Albino Rod

The first record Vallejo record ever pressed up far as hip-hop

Then came M.V.P., 40, D-Shot, Suga, and B

Then came The Mac, then came Mac D-R-E

They doin' the Thizz Dance in front of SolTrans

Everybody activated with a pistol in they pants, bitch

[Chorus: E-40 & Nef The Pharaoh]

Throwin' up the V

The 707

She rollin' up the tree

707

Got a .223

Where you from, bruh?

From the 707

I'm throwin' up the V, bitch (Ah, what?)

From the 707 (Mm, ah)

I don't know about you niggas' dough, but I'm real sourdough, on my mama kids, nigga (Ah, what?)

[Verse 2: Nef The Pharaoh]

I was takin' a shitter, Cousin Fik hit me up (Brr)

He said, "40 on the other line," I told that nigga, "What?"

Press mute, wipe my ass, bounce the fuck up (Get up)

And started talkin' business with the boss of where I'm from (Money)

The seven hundred and six plus one (Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey)

I be in the trap with Kyle Nasa in the flats (Ah)

Was born in '95 and after that, it's been a wrap (Ah)

I'm a hustler, not no rat, I'm 'bout my gouda, I'm 'bout my scratch (Gouda, scratch)

I'm headed to the tippy, so I'm always on my toes (I stand in it)

Times Herald takin' pictures, so I'm strikin' for the pose (Get it, pause, strike, get it)

My niggas on Alhambra still be playin' with they nose

Even if this rap don't blow, I still get money out a ho (Woah)

I was raised by OGs, so it's class in me (Class)

I'm allergic to broke bitches, so they bad for me (Ha, bad)

You want a verse from lil' Neffy, then start cashin' me

Bitch, I'm from Vallejo, motherfucker, stop askin' me

[Chorus: E-40]

Throwin' up the V

The 707

She rollin' up the tree

707

Got a .223

Where you from, bruh?

From the 707

I'm throwin' up the V, bitch

From the 707

[Verse 3: Willie Joe]

V-A-double-L-E-J-O (Woah)

Hop in this foreign, bitch, and ride with the roller (Ayy)

What's your motive? Them ain't the cops, them the rollers (Feel me?)

Flow straight colder, talkin' sicker than Ebola (Woah)

Had a tramp out in Rosa and I fucked her good (Yeah)

I found out she was a ho, so I kept it hood (Oh)

Yeah, we countin' C-notes like a musical (Believe that)

I'm slappin' Young D Boyz "Selling Cocaine as Usual"

I went to House of Soul, I need the usual

Never wore a suit, but I'm suitable

WataBoys down to the cuticles

Moved to the A, the shit was beautiful

I moved back, start killin' niggas, yeah, funeral

I'm sideways, nigga, that-a-way (Woah)

Shout out to Legit, my nigga 40 'cause they paved the way (Paved)

Hell yeah, I'ma rep, they gon' hate me anyway (Beezy)

So anyway (Feel me?)

[Chorus: E-40]

I'm throwin' up the V

The 707

She rollin' up the tree

707

Got a .223

Where you from, bruh?

From the 707

I'm throwin' up the V, bitch

From the 707