| This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
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| This is for the hustlas, now back to the Gz
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| This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
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| This is for the hustlas now back to the Gz
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| Freeze, at ease, now let me drop some more of them keys
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| It’s 19−9-tre so let me just play
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| It’s Snoop Dogg, I’m on the mic, I’m back with Dr. Dre
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| But this time I’ma hit yo' a*s with a touch
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| To leave motherf*ckers in a daze, f*cked up
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| So sit back relax new jacks get smacked
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| It’s Snoop Doggy Dogg I’m at the top of the stack
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| I don’t lack for a second, and I’m still checkin
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| The dopest motherf*cker that ya hearin on the record
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| It’s me, ya see, S-N-double-O-P
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| I’m fly as a falcon, soarin through the sky
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| And I’m high till I dizzie, rizzide
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| So check it, I get busy, I make your head dizzy
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| I blow up your mouth like I was Dizzy Gillespie
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| I’m crazy, you can’t phase me
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| I’m the S oh yes, I’m fresh, I don’t fuck with the stress
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| I’m all about the chronic, bionic ya see
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| Every single day, chillin with the D-O-double-G's
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| P-O-U-N-D that’s my clique, my crew
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| Ya f*ck with us, we gots to fuck you up
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| I thought ya knew, but yet and still
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| Ya wanna get real, now it’s time to peel, ya say chill
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| And feel, the motherf*ckin realism
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| Snoop Doggy Dogg is on the mic i’m hittin hard as steel ni*ga
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| This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
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| This is for the hustlas, now back to the Gz
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| This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
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| This is for the hustlas now back to the Gz
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| How many hoes in your motherf*ckin group
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| Wanna take a ride in my 7−8 Coupe, DeVille
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| Chill, as i take you on a trip
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| Where them niggaz ride, and slide
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| You know about the East Side
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| Nig*az like myself, here to show you where it’s at
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| With my hoes on my side, and my strap on my back
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| Papers I stack daily, and Death Row is still the label that pays me
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| But you know how that goes
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| We flow toe for toe, if you ain’t on the Row
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| F*ck you and your hoe, really doe, so check it
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| It’s Snoop Doggy Dogg on the solo tip
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| Still clockin grip, and really don’t give a sheeit
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| About nuttin at all, just my Doggs, steppin through the fog
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| And i’m still gonna fade em all
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| With the gangsta sh*t that keeps ya hangin
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| How many hoes in ninety-four will I be bangin?
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| Every single one, to get the job done
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| As I dip, skip, flip, right back to two one
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| Where the sun be shinin and i be ryhmin
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| It’s me, Snoop D-O-double-G, and I’m climbin
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| This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
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| This is for the hustlas, now back to the Gz
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| This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
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| This is for the hustlas now back to the Gz
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| I come creepin through the fog with my saggin Dukes
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| East Side, Long Beach, in a 7−8 Coupe DeBille
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| I’m rollin with the G Funk, bumpin in my shit and it don’t quit
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| So drop it on the one motherf*cker put together that set
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| A nigga with a grip of that gangsta sh*t
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| With the Eastside hoes on my motherf*ckin d*ck
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| And the Compton ni*gaz all about to set trip
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| Swing it back, bring it back, just like this
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| And if you with my shit, then blaze up another spliff
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| And keep the motherf*ckin blunt in your pocket loc
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| Cuz Doggy Dogg is all about the zig zag smoke
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| See it’s a West coast thing, where I’m from
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| And if you want some, get some, bad enough, take some
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| But watch the gun by my side
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| Because it represents me and the motherf*ckin East Side
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| So bow down to the bow wow, cause bow wow
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| Yippie yo, you can’t see my flow
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| My shit is dope, original, now you know
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| And can’t no hood f*ck with Death Rizzow
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| This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
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| This is for the hustlas, now back to the Gz
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| This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
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| This is for the hustlas now back to the Gz |