| Motherfucker too much, too much, too much
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| (I heard somebody bit our shit cuz!)
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| Where we from?
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Say what?)
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Motherfucker, too much)
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by (too much), Dogg Pound Gangstas (too much)
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Hey Daz)
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| I heard of a lot of dope ass rappers and I’m down with 'em
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| In deed we all smoke weed and clowned with 'em
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| Hung around with 'em, one man, with my gun in hand
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| There’s only one land, niggas down with me I can count on one hand (Dogg Pound)
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| The carma get dumb-a, the double barrel pump-a heat bump-a
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| And I been rocking mic’s since funky drum-a
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| These adventures reak havoc
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| Speak lavish lifesyle but crack your clavicle for the cabbage
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| Ryhme savage, introduction to death
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| Muder MC’s till ain’t shit left
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| In a sector, why must MC’s flip
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| Like gymnastics, just to get they ho ass whiped
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| Claiming they classic, but you don’t set no classic examples
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| With your fucked up beats, and your fucked up samples
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| Ya last verbal war, you won’t survive no more
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| I turned the channel, cuz nigga you ain’t live no more
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| I use to follow, but now you’s a legend like sleepy hollow
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| I shoot to kill on horse, peel your cap, swollow
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| There’s no tommorrow, nigga, it all ends
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| I been rocking a mic nigga since hip-hop began
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| I’m the man, now what is this that I’m told to be red on the spot
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| Dissed by a nigga I admire (sucka)
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| Oh shit, hell no this can’t be
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| Who’s this on the radio dissing me
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| D-O- double G, P-O-U-N-D, shit scorcher
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| Doing a video for a song that got blew outta porportion
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| I found he’s the deadliest force in the world
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| Where it’s all about glamour, fame, and fortune
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| As we blast and creep, so fuck you
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| Your homeboys and any fools trying to compete
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| We the elite, Dat Nigga Daz is back and he’s blasting
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| And anytime we meet face to face we mashing (ha-ha)
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (Say what?)
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (too much)
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by (too much), Dogg Pound Gangstas (too much)
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas (you know what?)
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| So gimmie, the heat to the motherfucking Jimmies
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| Hit slimmies, like 3's and I be’s penny
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| Raw, like fifteen separate sawed-offs
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| To you chest, leathal techs, and pissed to get complex
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| If I had a million dollars, then I’d be rich
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| If your ho was on deck then I’d fuck yo bitch
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| It’s Gotti in the cut with the Don, Coleone
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| And Dillinger, with the hollow tip chromes (Yeah)
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| Catch you in traffic, leave you all flabbergasted
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| Stalking you all, all walking caskets
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| Hit the spot where the smoke is sold
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| Low and behold, the tightest composition composed
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| Can you catch it, I threw my thoughts like a quarterback
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| So when they in the realm wit I mangle, murder, and slaughter at
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| React, actions speak louder than words
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| But ain’t nothing more potent than vision
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| I seen out in through the visions, erupting
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| I’m spontaneous rapping, busting your melon
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| Then escape a lyrical felon
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| Accelling in and out like, as if I’m smoking the bomb (boom)
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| And hit 3's as my D’s shine
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| And keep it gangsta
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangsta Gangsta
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas |