Released on 2003

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[Intro: E-40]

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

With Rick— With Rick— With Rick— With Rick—

With Rick— With Rick— With Rick— With Rick—

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

Wi—

Hyphy

Hyphy

Hyphy

Di-di-bop-bop, ski-di-di-bop-bop

Ski-di-di-bop-bop, ski-di-di-bop-bop (Hyphy)


[Verse 1: Stresmatic]

I got my strap tucked in, vest tucked in

Clip tucked in, hyphy and (Yeah)

Move like a smoker on bleem on the block (Rah)

And don't be mad if your homies got chopped (Nuh-uh)

TJ, the nigga that you need in your life (Yeah)

I'm sick from the jaw, look at me on the mic (Rah)

Crazy, gas, break, dip on you hoes (Skrrt)

And if you feel hyphy, go and smoke up your Vogues

Hanging out the sunroof blowing the dope

The homie got the chop up under the peacoat

Go crazy, stupid (Ayy), dumb, retarded (Uh)

Northern California gonna shoot up the party (Pow-pow)

Left coast, best coast (Go), aim it at your chest coast (Go)

Ever since Pac died (Go), forgot about the West Coast (Go)

So my nigga, we fiendin' for that (Ah)

40 Water (Uh), Federation (Uh), nigga (Uh) bringin' it back (Uh)

[Chorus: Stresmatic & E-40]

Hyphy, make the nosy neighbors wanna call the cops

Hyphy (Hyphy), strikin' in them scrapers and them drop tops

Hyphy (Hyphy), gettin' crooked up and down the block

Hyphy (Hyphy), gettin' pulled over, won't stop

Hyphy (Hyphy), make a baby mama slap her baby daddy

Hyphy (Hyphy), dancin' all on the hood of your potna Caddy

Hyphy (Hyphy), get to goin' stupid, go, go, go

Hyphy (Hyphy), we get to goin' dumb, go, go go (Hyphy)


[Verse 2: E-40]

Now are we singin' from the same sheet of music?

I was taught to never pull a pistol on a hustler unless I was plannin' on using it

Soil savvy and quite compellin', hubba rock, turtle and cha-cha peddlin'

Got the business mind of a stockbroker and the mouthpiece of a car salesman

Me and my juniors be on the Sick Wid', figure eightin' and gettin' hyph' (Hyph')

Hangin' all out the window in them scrapers with whistlin' pipes (Whistlin' pipes)

Gettin' our yaper on on can-orners shootin' dice (Shootin' dice)

Dollar danglin' (Uh) and fandanglin', shootin' kites (Shootin' kites)

Shoot me a letter back, take out time to write (Take out time to write)

I'll shoot you a letter back, you my dude for life (You my dude for life)

Surrounded by hustlas, hoodlums, and gangsters (Hoodlums and gangsters)

Harassed by them sheriffs and park rangers (Park rangers)

For drinking and smoking and perkin', gettin' blitzed (Gettin' blitzed)

For resistin' arrest with two cups up in my fists (In my fists)

Uh, they wanna put me to sleep, nighty-nighty (Nighty-nighty)

But I'm a fool about my shit, I'm too hyphy (I'm too hyphy)

[Chorus: Stresmatic & E-40]

Hyphy, make the nosy neighbors wanna call the cops

Hyphy (Hyphy), strikin' in them scrapers and them drop tops

Hyphy (Hyphy), gettin' crooked up and down the block

Hyphy (Hyphy), gettin' pulled over, won't stop

Hyphy (Hyphy), make a baby mama slap her baby daddy

Hyphy (Hyphy), dancin' all on the hood of your potna Caddy

Hyphy (Hyphy), get to goin' stupid, go, go, go

Hyphy (Hyphy), we get to goin' dumb, go, go go (Hyphy)

[Verse 2: Doonie Baby & Stresmatic]

Stang with the Hi Pro motor

Put The Bay on MTV like Kurt Loder

Want the silver spoon like my name Ricky Schroder

Straight from Alabama, but a Northern Cal promotor

Hyphy, can't keep my body from tweakin'

Gurpin', Rossi and Henny what I'm slurpin'

40 Belafonte and Coon 'bout pimpin'

Big stake scrimpin', boss, no simpin'

Sleazy, butt-naked with your shoes on

Swisher in your mouth with a notch givin' dome

Grimy, out the scraper window sayin', "Wha'?"

On parole with a pistol, don't give a fuck

Turfin', when you keep your product in the bush

Your gun in the bush and your fetti in the bush

Hyphy, the same way The South get crunk

If it's funk, leave his body slumped, stank in the trunk, hyphy


[Verse 4: Goldie Gold]

Piranha Pisces, smoke's how you heard of me (Uh)

Grown man gulpin' on a cup full of burgundy

Rossi, gig on your wig like The Mossie, watch me

Fo'-fo' under the coat, ready to blap (Yee)

Water, you know your cuzzo bring stank like onions (Ooh)

Fresh cut, set a nigga up for his grunions

Step on bunions (Ah), shoot holes dead in the pinky toe

If she man enough to swing, I'm bitch enough to fight back, so

We play the game how it's 'posed to be played

At the Grammys with a hundred turf niggas on stage

Who tear up The Source Awards? Bay cats do that

Vacuum money trees, after, won't pass your brew back (Nope)

Pac is in me, no it's not just the Remy

Good drugs got mama doc son in a frenzy

"You's a fiend" ("You's a fiend"), so what? I bet your mama smoke rocks, too

Make a bucket feel like a Benz on the block, fool

[Chorus: Stresmatic & E-40]

Hyphy, make the nosy neighbors wanna call the cops

Hyphy (Hyphy), strikin' in them scrapers and them drop tops

Hyphy (Hyphy), gettin' crooked up and down the block

Hyphy (Hyphy), gettin' pulled over, won't stop

Hyphy (Hyphy), make a baby mama slap her baby daddy

Hyphy (Hyphy), dancin' all on the hood of your potna Caddy

Hyphy (Hyphy), get to goin' stupid, go, go, go

Hyphy (Hyphy), we get to goin' dumb, go, go go, hyphy


[Outro: E-40]

Hyphy

Hyphy

Hyphy

Hyphy

Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

With Rick Rock Beats, yeah fella, I'll rock ya

Di-di-bop-bop, ski-di-di-bop-bop

Ski-di-di-bop-bop, ski-di-di-bop-bop