| With so much drama in the L-B-C
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| It’s kind of hard bein' Snoop D-O-double-G
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| But I, somehow, some way
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| Keep comin' up with funky-ass rhymes, like, every single day
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| May I kick a little something for the G’s
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| And make a few ends as I breach through?
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| Two in the mornin' and the fourty’s still jumpin'
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| ‘Cause my momma ain’t home
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| I got freaks in the livin' room gettin' it on
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| And they ain’t leavin' till six in the morn'
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| So what you wanna do?
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| Hm, I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too
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| So turn off the lights and close the doors
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| But for what? |
| We don’t ever know, yeah
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| So we gon' blow a ounce to this
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| G’s up, freeze up for a second, now bounce to this
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| Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
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| Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
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| With my mind on my money
|
| And my money on my mind
|
| Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
|
| Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
|
| With my mind on my money
|
| And my money on my mind
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| Now that I got me some Seagram’s gin
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| Everybody got they cups, but they ain’t chipped in
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| Now this type of things happen all the time
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| You got to get yours but, fool, I gotta get mine
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| See, everything is fine when you listening to the D-O-G
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| I got the cultivating music that be captivating he
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| Who listen to the words that I speak
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| As I take me a drink to the middle of the street
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| And get to mackin' to this chick named Sadie (Sadie?)
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| She used to be the homeboy’s lady (Oh, that bitch)
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| 80 degrees, when I tell that trick please
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| Raise up off these N-U-T's, ‘cause you gets none of these
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| At ease, as I mob with the Dogg Pound
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| Feel the breeze and you know I’m just…
|
| Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
|
| Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
|
| With my mind on my money
|
| And my money on my mind
|
| Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
|
| Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
|
| With my mind on my money
|
| And my money on my mind
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| Later on that day, my homie Dr. Dre
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| Came through with a gang of Tanqueray
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| And a fat ass J of some bubonic that made me choke
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| This ain’t no joke, I had to back up off of it and put my cup down
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| Tanqueray and, yeah, I’m cooled down now
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| But it ain’t no stoppin', 'cause I’m still poppin'
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| And Jay got some tricks from the city of Compton
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| To serve me; |
| not with a cherry on top
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| ‘Cause when I gets through, I gots to hit the dope spot
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| Don’t get upset, girl, that’s just how it goes
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| I don’t ever know, I’m out the door, and I’ll be…
|
| Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
|
| Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
|
| With my mind on my money
|
| And my money on my mind
|
| Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
|
| Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back
|
| With my mind on my money
|
| And my money on my mind
|
| Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
|
| Sippin' on gin and juice, beyotch
|
| With my mind on my money
|
| And my money on my mind
|
| Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
|
| Sippin' on gin and juice, beyotch
|
| With my mind on my money
|
| And my money on my mind |