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Lyrics
Let me tell you about a man named E
Some call him spark, some call him Frosty
6 foot 2 if he stands up straight
but he slouches over so he’s only 5’8”
he listens to tribe, and black eyed peas
he don’t listen to redd and tb
he tries to be a baller, he tries to be a pimp
but he’s got rickity old knees that make him limp
he won’t talk to girls at the bowling lanes
he’ll get rowdy with us, just not as insane
only time he gets crazy is behind the wheel
swerving at hitchhikers, switching lanes for real
if he misses a shot on the court or a strike on the lanes
he blames on his hand or ankle pain
puts his head down shakes it and laughs
shoulders shrugging up and down like a seizmograph
he won’t get tattered, he won’t get pierced
he’d rather drink black velvet than a couple of beers
my favorite hunchbacked smart ass g
there’s no one else like spark, E, or Frosty
~CHORUS~
Big E get the money see?
Big E get the honeys see?
Big E got the jeep see?
It’s lit up like a christmas tree
If he ain’t up inside of a local pizza hut,
He’s out in the parking lot spinnin doughnuts
E’s a crazy ass driver and a speed addict
When he sees a rice burner he goes psycho sematic
He can’t play a sport cause he can’t compete
Cause he’s got mad wack knees and he’s always gotta eat
He’s all up on the shitter for like 22 days
Then he rolls off to go to work and tries to get paid
He’s got a wicked ass curve down on the bowlin lane
No other lefty could do it quite the same
Frosty’s the shit, he likes chicks with meat
Course he won’t tell ya that, he tries to be discreet
Big e is my easy ridin homie
His ass is big, his mouth is foamy,
Sippin on a fo’tie like jim thome what!
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