| You’z a fool fo' dis, yeah
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| My dogg Hi-Tek, representin' Cincinnati, Ohio!
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| Eastside shit, y’all know how we get down
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| 7 dizzles a wizzle, Bigg Bow Wiggle’s, up in the hizzle
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| Fo' shizzle bizzle, here we go again
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| Freshly dressed, I jump up in the mo’nin' tryna find some Zest
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| Psyche, we like the Bom, somebody betta ring the alarm
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| And hit the folks at the forum
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| Let my homies off the yard
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| I shall see the head nigga in charge
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| Push… Bush outta office, dump 'til they get off us
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| Make them offers, that leave niggas in coffins
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| Can you feel it my nigga, I’m 'bout to kill it my niggas
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| Sound like guerillas, fo' real’a off gangsta government millas
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| Coke killas, when it comes to off mic’n wit me
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| I was branded in a gang, fuck havin' techniques
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| Just ride, not a damn lettin' these fools breathe
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| Pop peas, push keys, find a stash fo' yo cheese
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| Is it possible that laws might get jealous
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| Hell yeah they be hatin' on the 3 Good Fellas
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| Over-dosage of ferocious, WestCoast in effect
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| Bang straight gangsta shit, so you know it’s on deck
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| Hold and respect, cold as it get, don’t wanna test
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| Kidnap ya wife and ya kids, you get the message
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| Insanity, commanded me to savagely spit
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| Suffer casualties, challenge me, I handle it quick
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| No talkin', C-Walkin', we chokin' the block off
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| Lettin' the Glock off
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| And throwin' up DoggHouse
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| WestCoast niggas and we all in yo house
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| Gang bang niggas we gon' turn this bitch out
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| Eastside ridaz and we all in yo mouth
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| Dogg Pound Gang we let the mothafuckin' doggs out
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| Nate Dogg, Goldie, Snoopy, Tray Deee
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| Never loved a ho and run the «G-A» in me
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| Always got a bitch, but never in the front seat
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| Still the same let the mothafuckin' doggs out
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| Yeah! |
| it’s about to get Crip’d out crazy
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| Blast on all you suckas with the throw away to daily
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| Don’t you shoot that little mothafucka no mo'
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| That ain’t what he said when he hit the chest went through his heart,
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| came out his elbow
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| You shouldn’t have been talkin' that shit bitch boy
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| Sayin' the wrong thing against the real McCoy
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| Didn’t know I was a cold-blooded gangsta
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| If you ain’t ridin' wit us fool, we’ll catch ya lata
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| We exploded, reloaded and sewed it up
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| Sprayed shots to the crowed, like a loaded pump
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| Keep this mothafucka jumpin' 'til they close it up
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| Then we dippin' wit a sip and some hoes to fuck
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| Pour late, the hard way, ain’t no bustas here
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| So explict you can only get it once a year
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| Eastsidaz, the ridaz, they change the game
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| And let you know from here go, we straight came to bang
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| Put me on a leash if you dare and I doubt you
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| Ever see someone here, who gave a fuck about you?
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| Niggas on the streets gon' keep talkin' shit about you
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| As long as you clap fool, it’s bigger than 'bout too
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| Fuck wit fools, that ain’t never paid us
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| And try to turn the homies into traitaz
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| Blue rags with blue balls, fo' all you hataz
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| I shoot a shout out to the killas
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| Yeah them stealas and Raiders
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| It’s them D-O double G’z
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| Ain’t nobody really fuckin' wit deez
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| Who let the mothafuckin' doggs out?
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| DoggHouse in ya mouth
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| We them niggas people talkin' about
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| Who let the mothafuckin' doggs out?
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| Niggas betta run and hide, we about to ride
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| Who let the mothafuckin' doggs out?
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| (Bigg Snoop Dogg)
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| Who let the mothafuckin' doggs out? |
| (Woof, woof)
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| Who let them Eastside ridaz out?
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| Now all the locs and doggs, who roll in big balls, say chips! |
| (Chips!)
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| And all the women wit extensions in well fed conditions, you bitch! |
| (You Bitch!)
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| Hey! |
| who let the mothafuckin' gate open?
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| Police comin' and we still smokin'
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| What you drinkin' on Loc’y, Loc’y?
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| Doggy wo’gy, got his fo’gy while we tokin' on the wo’gy, doggy
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| Say woof mothafucka!, woof mothafucka!
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| Mighty mowed his ass, take his block fo' the hustlas
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| Post up, make about a million a month
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| Hittin' Bloods!, switchin' guns!
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| WestCoast niggas and we all in yo house
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| Gang bang niggas we gon' turn this bitch out
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| Eastside ridaz and we all in yo mouth
|
| Dogg Pound Gang we let the mothafuckin' doggs out
|
| Nate Dogg, Goldie, Snoopy, Tray Deee
|
| Never loved a ho and run the «G-A» in me
|
| Always got a bitch, but never in the front seat
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| Still the same let the mothafuckin' doggs out |