Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song D.P.G, artist - Daz Dillinger.
Date of issue: 30.04.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
D.P.G |
Motherfucker too much, too much, too much |
(I heard somebody bit our shit cuz!) |
Where we from? |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Say what?) |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Motherfucker, too much) |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by (too much), Dogg Pound Gangstas (too much) |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Hey Daz) |
I heard of a lot of dope ass rappers and I’m down with 'em |
In deed we all smoke weed and clowned with 'em |
Hung around with 'em, one man, with my gun in hand |
There’s only one land, niggas down with me I can count on one hand (Dogg Pound) |
The carma get dumb-a, the double barrel pump-a heat bump-a |
And I been rocking mic’s since funky drum-a |
These adventures reak havoc |
Speak lavish lifesyle but crack your clavicle for the cabbage |
Ryhme savage, introduction to death |
Muder MC’s till ain’t shit left |
In a sector, why must MC’s flip |
Like gymnastics, just to get they ho ass whiped |
Claiming they classic, but you don’t set no classic examples |
With your fucked up beats, and your fucked up samples |
Ya last verbal war, you won’t survive no more |
I turned the channel, cuz nigga you ain’t live no more |
I use to follow, but now you’s a legend like sleepy hollow |
I shoot to kill on horse, peel your cap, swollow |
There’s no tommorrow, nigga, it all ends |
I been rocking a mic nigga since hip-hop began |
I’m the man, now what is this that I’m told to be red on the spot |
Dissed by a nigga I admire (sucka) |
Oh shit, hell no this can’t be |
Who’s this on the radio dissing me |
D-O- double G, P-O-U-N-D, shit scorcher |
Doing a video for a song that got blew outta porportion |
I found he’s the deadliest force in the world |
Where it’s all about glamour, fame, and fortune |
As we blast and creep, so fuck you |
Your homeboys and any fools trying to compete |
We the elite, Dat Nigga Daz is back and he’s blasting |
And anytime we meet face to face we mashing (ha-ha) |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Say what?) |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (too much) |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by (too much), Dogg Pound Gangstas (too much) |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (you know what?) |
So gimmie, the heat to the motherfucking Jimmies |
Hit slimmies, like 3's and I be’s penny |
Raw, like fifteen separate sawed-offs |
To you chest, leathal techs, and pissed to get complex |
If I had a million dollars, then I’d be rich |
If your ho was on deck then I’d fuck yo bitch |
It’s Gotti in the cut with the Don, Coleone |
And Dillinger, with the hollow tip chromes (Yeah) |
Catch you in traffic, leave you all flabbergasted |
Stalking you all, all walking caskets |
Hit the spot where the smoke is sold |
Low and behold, the tightest composition composed |
Can you catch it, I threw my thoughts like a quarterback |
So when they in the realm wit I mangle, murder, and slaughter at |
React, actions speak louder than words |
But ain’t nothing more potent than vision |
I seen out in through the visions, erupting |
I’m spontaneous rapping, busting your melon |
Then escape a lyrical felon |
Accelling in and out like, as if I’m smoking the bomb (boom) |
And hit 3's as my D’s shine |
And keep it gangsta |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangsta Gangsta |
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas |