Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Keep Their Heads Ringin', artist - Dr. Dre.
Date of issue: 10.04.1995
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Keep Their Heads Ringin' |
Yeah, whattup, this is Dr. Dre |
The party’s goin on Thank God it’s Friday |
Keep their headz ringin (ring ding dong |
ring-gading ding ding dong) / repeat 2X |
Verse One: |
Say what? |
That’s right |
Yeahhh… |
Funk, you, right on up So get up, get a move on, and get your groove on It’s the D-R-E the spectacular |
In a party I go for your neck so call me Blackula |
As I drain a niggaz jugular vein |
and maintain to leave blood stains so don’t complain |
Just chill, listen to the beats I spill |
Keepin it real, enables me to make another meal |
Still, niggaz run up and try to kill at will |
But get popped like a pimple, so call me Clearasil |
I wipe niggaz off the face of the Earth since birth |
I been a bad nigga, now let me tell you what I’m worth |
More than a Stealth bomber, I cause drama |
The enforcer, music floats like a flyin saucer |
Or a 747 jet, never forget |
I’m that nigga that keeps the hoes panties wet |
The mic gets smoked, once you hear the beat kick |
With grooves so funky, they come with a Speed Stick |
So check the flavor that I’m bringin |
The motherfuckin D-R-E, will keep they motherfuckin heads ringin |
Verse Two: |
One-two for the crew, three-fo'for the dough |
Five for the hoe (HOEEE!) six-seven-eight for Death Row |
Mad niggaz about to feel the full effect of intellect |
so I can collect respect, plus a check |
Now I fin’to, get into to, my mental |
will take care of this business I need to attend to, cuz my rent’s due |
And this rap shit’s my meal ticket |
So you god damn right I’m gonna kick it, or get evicted |
I bring terror like Stephen King |
A black Casanova, runnin niggaz over like Christine |
When I rock the spot with the flavor I got |
I get plenty of ass, so call me an ass-tronaut |
As I blast past another nigga’s ass that thought he was strong |
but I smoke him like grass, just like Cheech and Chong |
When I flow, niggaz know, it’s time to take a hike |
Cause I grab the mic and flip my tongue like a dyke |
I got rhymes to keep you enchanted |
Produce a smokescreen with the funky green to keep your eyes slanted |
So check the flavor that I’m bringin |
The motherfuckin D-R-E, will keep they motherfuckin heads ringin |
Yeah, c’mon |
If you, want to, get on down |
Uhh, yeah. |
c’mon |
you gotta get on down |
Hahaha. |
it’s like that |
just get on down |
Verse Three: |
Debonairre with flair, I scare wear and tear |
without a care, runnin shit as if I was a mayor |
But I ain’t no politician, no competition |
Sendin all opposition to see a mortician |
I’m up front, never in the back drop |
Step on stage and get faded just like a flat top |
Your rhyme sounds like you bought em at Stop N Go Dre came to wax you so, just call me Mop N Glow |
Many tried to, but just can’t rock with |
I’m 6−1, two-twenty-five, a pure chocolate |
Your chances of jackin me are slim G Cause I rock from summer til Santa comes down the chimney |
Ho ho ho, and so, as I continue to flow |
Cause yo, I’m just a fly negro |
So, check the flavor that I’m bringin |
The motherfuckin D-R-E, will keep they motherfuckin heads ringin |
Yeah, uhh, c’mon |
If you, want to, get on down |
Yeah, Death Row back up in that ass |
you gotta get on down |
for the one-nine-nine to the nickel |
just get on down |
so all you motherfuckers out there tryin to get with this |
don’t even try it If you, want to, get on down |
You couldn’t see us with binoculars. |
can you dig it? |
you gotta get on down |
Ha hah, yeah, uhh |
just get on down |
I know you’re bobbin your head, cause I can see you |
UHH, I know you’re bobbin your head, cause I can see you |
You can’t see me? |
Hahaha, yeah |
Death Row, let me know you in the house (BEOTCH!) |
Yeah, that’s right, we out. |