| I want you to understand something
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| That when I come up in this b*tch, I want the fans jumping
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| I want them fists pumping in the air, I don’t look like a millionaire
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| But I feel like a million bucks, Ladies won’t you fill your cups?
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| Shady’s come to fill you up, if you a D or a C-cup
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| You can even be a B, it’s just me and D-R-E
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| You’ll be in the E-R, we are strapped with so much T-N-T
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| We may blow, no, not even C-P-R from the EMT
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| Can help you to resuscitate, You bustas must be flustered, wait
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| You can’t cut the mustard, What’s your problem, can’t you bust a grape?
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| (chk chk) What’s my name? |
| Shady came to crush the game
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| Instantly, not even fair to them cause they pale in comparisons
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| So much they might as well wear a skin, don’t you wish you could just share his
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| pen?
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| Cause this shit is getting embarrassing, the fog is thick and the air is thin
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| Cause he won’t even let them try to breathe, Dadidadidadadi
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| He makes it look so easy, Girl you just hit the lottery
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| Now this would be the part of the song
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| Where they drop the needle on and hell breaks loose
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| Try to restrain us, you can’t contain us
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| We still gonna make it stick no matter what we do
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| Everywhere we go, it seems we looking
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| For any excuse to just cut loose
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| So this would be the part of the song
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| Where they drop the needle on and hell breaks loose
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| This is when shit hits the fan like it just flat out don’t stand
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| This is the only moment that matters, your homie rolling with Mathers
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| Then chaos erupts, Em’s in back, Dre’s in the front
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| So do what we say and once it’s over like a suance, it hums
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| (It makes them stay in a trance, No choice, they have to dance)
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| It’s like the playoffs, just making sure that we stay in the hunt
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| Take a day off or what? |
| Man, you better lay off the blunts
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| You must be smokin' something, think I ain’t smokin' nothing, stay off my nuts
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| Now hit the floor, baby, time to wipe away all the rust
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| Shake all them cobwebs loose, loosen up with a little bit of Grey Goose
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| Yeah, girl, shake that caboose, I don’t wanna see you try to make no excuse
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| D-R-E is on the loose, I’m like a goose when it comes to the Chronic use
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| You know I can’t stand to lose, Me and my goons are like animals
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| Wake up like a pack of wolves and we came here to extract the roof
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| Yeah, man, ain’t that the truth? |
| Girl, your mans is like in the booth
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| Definitely back up in this b*tch, You swing? |
| All hell breaks loose
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| Now this would be the part of the song
|
| Where they drop the needle on and hell breaks loose
|
| Try to restrain us, you can’t contain us
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| We still gonna make it stick no matter what we do
|
| Everywhere we go, it seems we looking
|
| For any excuse to just cut loose
|
| So this would be the part of the song
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| Where they drop the needle on and hell breaks loose
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| Now I know you’re feelin discouraged but homie just mark my words
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| I’m mur-durin the flow, liquid courage I’m fin' to blow
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| As soon as we hit the do' power surges head to toe
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| I’m sure to push it as far as words are meant to go
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| We’re in the indigo Winnebago with tinted windows
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| Ferocious as we proceed to beat up the block wit yo' hoe
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| With speakers knockin it’s 3 o’clock, me and Doc then proceed to drop
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| «E» and hop out the vehicle and knock on your do'
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| Yeah, so let us in 'fore we huff and puff and we blow
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| We ain’t bluffin for nothin, we’ll knock the stuffin out you
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| Revenge is so sweet, move 'til you injure your feet
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| Yeah, move it or lose it freak, move to the beat, lose yourself indubitably
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| Pass up on that little cute chick right there that’ll be pretty damn stupid of
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| me
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| Born and raised in the C-P-T, yeah Los Angeles, rules of the streets |