Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Doe Doe, artist - Webbie. Date of issue: 25.02.2008
Song language: English
Doe Doe |
| Blowin doe, doe with this 4−4 |
| Got the hat back with the seats low |
| Blowin doe, doe with this 4−4 |
| Got the hat back with the seats low |
| Blowin doe, doe with this 4−4 |
| Got the hat back with the seats low |
| Blowin doe, doe with this 4−4 |
| Got the hat back with the seats low |
| It ain’t no joke up in here, got so much smoke up in here |
| That you’ll prolly choke up in here, if you ain’t on that dope up in here |
| Mayne I should slow up in here, cause I can’t get roped up in here |
| Got this lil’ho up in here and I ain’t had insurance in years |
| But I’ll turn the wheels, the music fuck up your ears |
| Snatch some mo twenty-sixes, give you mo shit to go whisper |
| I have 'em big, by the line-you clip 'em one at a time |
| You do this shit by the month, I switch 'em up by the blunt |
| So don’t be stuntin, respect that chickens and boppas be on me |
| And Yeah I’m prolly in the projects with some lil' niggas that’s wanted |
| In the whip with some tint, bad bitch with some sense |
| I get tired of ridin this, I hit the castle and switch |
| Yeah my lil' homie done came up on some extravagant shit |
| So I roll it up and took me an extravagant hit |
| Got to laughin' and grinnin', mayne it must be bleezie |
| Started trippin' and cheesin', I rolled another one, immediate-you know I’m |
| I be creepin' slowly in the Monte Carlo |
| I ain’t goin' inside till tomorrow |
| I gotta get it, give a fuck if it’s your car note |
| Black Jeep behind me that’s my nigga Marlo |
| I pull up at the studio, I’m gettin' blunted |
| With a flipper, Boosie call her Young Dummy |
| My girl hit me, Phat bring yo ass home |
| Not right now cause I’m gettin' my thug on |
| Eyes low, Yeah I’m smokin' off the pound |
| Hat back, seats low-me and my round |
| 4−4 in my pack it’s kind of heavy |
| Take it off, put it on my lap-I stay ready |
| This shit garbage mayne I’m tired of smokin' this |
| Hit my nigga B to get some different shit |
| Mufucka and don’t never think I’m scary |
| I put hollow tips through yo fuckin' belly |
| They gon' burn ya like a deli, I stay ready |
| Mayne I’m always in the ghetto, in the ghetto you can find me |
| Cadillac swangin-car killas right behind me |
| Rollin down the interstate doin' bout ninety |
| The car so smoked out this shit about to blind me |
| Gotta crack the window and let loose the smog |
| While I’m bendin' corners in my candy painted hog |
| The swisher’s so packed, this mothafucka’s like a log |
| I take another hit and then I pass it to my dog |
| A doe-doe smokin' gangsta, I stay twistin' that green |
| A twenty eight gram a day habit, know what I mean |
| If I don’t get my medicine nigga on the cool |
| I’m bout to start trippin' out-actin a mothafuckin' fool |
| That’s when Dr. Jekyll turned into Hyde on these boys |
| And pull out the Heckler and start to ride on these boys |
| Where I’m from we ain’t lettin' shit slide on these boys |
| But we gon' keep our pistols and our eyes on these boys, That’s what’s up |
| (Chorus Till End) |