To Whom This May Concern Lyrics

Shit, if the shoe fit, wear it, fuck itBEOTCH!Chorus: E-40 (repeat 2X)To whom this may concernAll you rappers with all that fetti to burnThe industry is finicky so let me make this clearTHEY'LL HAVE A NEW NIGGA NEXT YEAR!![Verse One]I know you're shinin like a lightI know your record sales is politics and hypeI know you're boohoo'ncause none of your royalty statements never had a check attached to 'emFamous but unrecouped; circumstances predicated onlarge-ass video budgets, and takin out advancementsUhh, March and September, that's quite a ways 40 - 40?Oh he get paid every thirty days shorty!Uhh, I ain't no lameI'm different from y'all, I come from the game(From the game) I ain't gotta explainI been hella raw, I been spittin gameI seen you on the BillboardI saw you when you got that MTV AwardUh, number one on SoundScanCongratulations playa; dude can I shake yo' hand?Oh you don't wanna shake my hand, now you too good now?Oh it's like that you 'sidin on yo' folks now?Enjoy it while you're here.... THEY'LL HAVE A NEW NIGGA NEXT YEAR!!Chorus[Verse Two]Uhh, air-play, program directors from the Baydon't support they rappers in the Yea (in the Yea)They figure we ain'ts real hip-hop (hip HOP)They lookin for some mainstream flip-flop (flip)But I ain't finsta sit down (sit down)Sit down and wait for this shit to come back aroundShit I just like to perk (whatchu like to do?)I like to get out there and networkCharlie Hustle fall off?I doubt itShit, when niggaz stop talkin about methat's when I'm gon' WORRY about itAnd if they do I'ma take the independent roadA hundred thousand units on the underground; playboy, that's ghetto gold!Never breakin a sweat (a, a sweat)Slangin albums from the internet (from the internet)Ain't nuttin but respect here.... THEY'LL HAVE A NEW NIGGA NEXT YEAR!!Chorus[Verse Three]My loyal fans wanna know why it's so noticeableand how come none of E-40 lyrics ain't never been in The Source 'Hip-Hop Quotable'?To tell the truth it's kinda irkin me, cause I don't knowI ain't rappin too fast, see y'all just listenin too slowYou can ask +Zomba+ I'm about a thousand songs deepSpittin ghetto anthems that I done hadI shoulda been ran out of heat (ran out of heat)I had to prove myself firstI didn't get my deal based on a sixteen measure verseUhh, damn right and ever since dude 'Pac passed awaythe West coast ain't been eatin rightIf he was alive I'd ask him for his opinionationand if he was me what would he do in this sort of situationWould he take off on these journalists, tell me what you thinkfor assassinatin motherfuckers characters with all that bad ink?How they gonna have me Top 50, #43?I'm a hog, shit; that's why I don't fuck with BlazeI fuck with Murder DogChorus 2X[E-40]BEATCH!See what I'm sayin?This shit is finickyIt's a fool out there, ya dum dums!Smell this nigga?Charlie Hustle, millenium ballers nigga (beatch)Thought you thoughtamajig (HOE!!!)