| Yeah y’all gone miss me Never miss what you had 'til it’s gone
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| Yeah, y’all gone miss me Yeah, y’all gone miss me Hmm, who that nigga that brought you that gangsta shit
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| befo’you motherfuckers was even ready for it?
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| Showed you how to tie a flag on your head
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| and represent your motherfuckin set 'til you’re dead
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| Bust on the cops while I cuss the Feds
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| Roll a joint, in the bathtub gettin head
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| Put the G in the P, flipped the G to a ki Put the West coast back on the map bay-bee
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| Check my styles, check my files
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| I’ve been gangbangin since I was a juvenile
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| They cut me loose in nine-deuce I swore to tell the whole truth
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| Keep it gangbang 100 proof
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| E’rybody say, Ay Snoop — did Death Row pay me?
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| Look here young loc, shit it’s all to the gravy
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| I really can’t trip off the past, on the real I had a blast
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| Tupac, rest in peace and God bless all my enemies
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| Rain-drops, falling on my head
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| Fuckin with them haters, messin with my bread
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| Talkin bout the raindrops, fallin on my head
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| Fuckin with them haters, sleepin in my bed
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| Ain’t No Limit to this shit, ain’t no gimmick
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| Master P good lookin out homeboy, salute my Lieutenant (at ease)
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| I’m in it knee deep and can’t creep no more
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| I had to move down South on the low-low, fo’sho’doe
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| Dippin through the woods with Fiend, Magic, Pokey
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| Mystikal, V-90, C, Boz and P (ya heard me?)
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| Windows on tint, ridin like the President
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| It’s evident, shit I’m doin good (yeah)
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| I moved out the hood like I should (say what?)
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| And then they had the nerve to call me Hollywood (nigga what?)
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| But I don’t give a fuck, if I’m misunderstood
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| 20 Crip don’t slip, yeah it’s all to the good
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| Yeah the homies got twist too, whatchu say?
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| Oh the homies might get me? |
| They’ll get you
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| Listen here, don’t try it, and don’t deny it And don’t pay 'em no mind Dogg, man I’m tryin
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| Just when you thought I was gone, I’m back on Knick-knack-paddy-wack give the Dogg a home
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| with a gang of pitbulls, rottweilers and doberman pinschers
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| Bonafied killers
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| The illest, cap peelers, that you ever wanna meet
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| Straight up out the ghetto where they pack the heavy metal
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| I got my hand on the wheel, my foot on the gas pedal
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| I’m drivin DoggHouse to the next level (woof)
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| and buckin two shots at the devil
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| Run up on his ass, and blast, like a rebel
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| Turn up the treble cause I hit you with the bass
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| Remember my name and remember my face
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| Remember these words, and remember the taste
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| And remember, we all gotta leave this place
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| I’m tryin to stay focused, I’m the loc’est in the game
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| The Rap Prime Minister, Mr. G Thang
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| Rain-drops, fallin on my head
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| Fuckin with the wrong folks, messin with my spread
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| Talkin bout the raindrops, fallin on my head
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| Messin with my ba-by, who’s sleepin in my bed |