| Y’all know me, still the same ol' G
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| But I been low key
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| Hated on by most these niggas
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| Wit no cheese, no deals and no G’s, no wheels and no keys
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| No boats, no snowmobiles and no ski’s
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| Mad at me
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| 'Cause I can finally afford to provide my family wit groceriesGot a crib wit a
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| studio and it’s all full of tracks
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| To add to the wall full of plaques
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| Hangin' up in the office in back of my house like trophies
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| But y’all think I’m gonna let my dough freeze
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| Ho please
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| You better bow down on both knees
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| Who you think taught you to smoke trees?
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| Who you think brought you the oldies?
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| Eazy-E's, Ice cube’s and D.O.C's and Snoop D O double G’s
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| And a group that said, «Muthafuck the police"Gave you a tape full of dope beats
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| To bump when you stroll through in you hood
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| And when your album sales wasn’t doin' too good
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| Who’s the doc that he told you to go see?
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| Y’all better listen up closely
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| All you niggas that said that I turned pop
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| Or the Firm flop
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| Y’all are the reason Dre ain’t been getting no sleep
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| So fuck y’all, all of y’all
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| If y’all don’t like me, blow me
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| Y’all are gonna keep fuckin' around wit me
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| And turn me back to the old meNowadays everybody wanna talk like they got
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| something to say
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| But nothin' comes out when they move they lips
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| Just a buncha gibberish
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| And muthafuckas act like they forgot about Dre
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| Nowadays everybody wanna talk like they got something to say
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| But nothin' comes out when they move they lips
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| Just a buncha gibberish
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| And muthafuckas act like they forgot about DreSo what do you say to somebody
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| you hate
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| Or anybody tryna bring trouble your way
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| Wanna resolve things in a bloodier way
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| Just study your tape of NWA
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| One day I was walkin' by
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| Wit a walkman on
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| When I caught a guy givin' me an awkward eye
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| And strangled him off in the parkin' lot wit his Karl KaniI don’t give a fuck
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| if it’s dark or not
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| I’m harder than me tryna park a dodge
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| But I’m drunk as fuck
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| Right next to a humungous truck in a two car garage
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| Hoppin' out wit two broken legs, tryna walk it off
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| Fuck you too bitch, call the cops
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| I’m a kill you and them
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| Loud ass muthafuckin barkin' dogsAnd when the cops came through me
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| Dre stood next to a burnt down house
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| Wit a can full of gas and a hand full of matches
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| They still wouldn’t found out
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| From here on out it’s the chronic two
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| Startin' today and tomorrow’s the new
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| And I’m still loco enough
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| To choke you to death wit a Charleston chewSlim Shady hotter then a set of twin
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| babies
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| In a Mercedes Benz wit the windows up
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| And the temp goes up to the mid 80's
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| Callin' men, ladies
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| Sorry Doc, but I’ve been crazy
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| There is no way that you can save me
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| It’s okay, go with him HaileyNowadays everybody wanna talk like they got
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| something to say
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| But nothin' comes out when they move they lips
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| Just a buncha gibberish
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| And muthafuckas act like they forgot about Dre
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| Nowadays everybody wanna talk like they got something to say
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| But nothin' comes out when they move they lips
|
| Just a buncha gibberish
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| And muthafuckas act like they forgot about DreIf it was up to me
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| You muthafuckas would stop comin' up to me
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| Wit your hands out lookin' up to me
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| Like you want somethin' free
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| When my last C.D. |
| was out you wasn’t bumpin' me
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| But now that I got’s new company
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| Everybody wanna come to me like it was some disease
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| But you won’t get a crumb from me
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| 'Cause I’m from the streets of The ComptonI told em all
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| All them little gangstas
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| Who you think helped mould 'em all?
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| Now you wanna run around and talk about guns
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| Like I ain’t got none
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| What you think I sold 'em all
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| 'Cause I stay well off
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| Now all I get is hate mail all day sayin' Dre fell off
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| What 'cause I been in the lab wit a pen and a pad
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| Tryna get this damn label offI ain’t havin that
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| This is the millenium of Aftermath
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| It ain’t gonna be nothin' after that
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| So give me one more platinum plaque and fuck rap
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| You can have it back
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| So where’s all the mad rappers at
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| It’s like a jungle in this habitat
|
| But all you savage cats
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| Knew that I was strapped wit gats
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| When you were cuddled in the cabbage patchNowadays everybody wanna talk like
|
| they got something to say
|
| But nothin' comes out when they move they lips
|
| Just a buncha gibberish
|
| And muthafuckas act like they forgot about Dre
|
| Nowadays everybody wanna talk like they got something to say
|
| But nothin' comes out when they move they lips
|
| Just a buncha gibberish
|
| And muthafuckas act like they forgot about DreNowadays everybody wanna talk
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| like they got something to say
|
| But nothin' comes out when they move they lips
|
| Just a buncha gibberish
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| And muthafuckas act like they forgot about Dre |