Crack a Bottle [Screwed & Chopped]

Dr. Dre, Eminem, 50 Cent  Buy

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Dr. Dre

Andre Romelle Young (born February 18, 1965), known by his stage name Dr. Dre, is an American rapper, record producer, entrepreneur, and actor. He is the founder and current CEO of Aftermath Entertainment and Beats Electronics. Dre was previously the co-owner and artist of Death Row Records. He has produced albums for and overseen the careers of many rappers, including Snoop Dogg, Eminem, 50 Cent and Game. He is credited as a key figure in the popularization of West Coast G-funk, a style of rap music characterized as synthesizer-based with slow, heavy beats. In 2011, Dr. Dre was ranked as the third richest figure in the American hip hop scene by Forbes with a net worth of $250 million. more »


Year:
2009
122 Views

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Ladies and gentlemen
The moment you've all been waiting for
In this corner, weighing a hundred and seventy five pounds
With a record of seventeen rapes, four hundred assaults, and four murders
The undisputed, most diabolical villain in the world
Slim shady

So crack a bottle, let your body waddle
Don't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto
O-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe
Got one riding shotgun and no not one of them got clothes
Now where's the rubbers, who's got the rubbers?
I noticed there's so many of them
And there's really not that many of us
And ladies love us, my posse's kicking up dust
It's on till the break of dawn
And we're starting this party from dusk

Ok, let's go

Back with André the Giant, Mr. Elephant Tusk
Fix your musk, you'll just be another one bit the dust
Just one of my mothers sons who got thrown under the bus
Kiss my butt, lick fromunda cheese from under my nuts
It disgusts me to see the game the way that it looks
It's a must I redeem my name and haters get mushed
Bitches lust man they love me when I lay in the cut
Fisticuff, the lady gave her eighty-some paper cut
Now picture us it's ridiculous you curse at the thought
'Cause when I spit the verse the shit
Gets worse then Worcestershire sauce
If I could fit the words as picture perfect, works every time
Every verse, every line, as simple as nursery rhymes
It's elementary the elephants have entered the room
I venture to say we're the center of attention it's true
Not to mention back with a vengeance so here's the signal
Of the bat symbol the platinum trio's back on you hoes

So crack a bottle, let your body waddle
Don't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto
O-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe
Got one riding shotgun and no not one of them got clothes
Now where's the rubbers, who's got the rubbers?
I noticed there's so many of them
And there's really not that many of us
And ladies love us, my posse's kicking up dust
It's on till the break of dawn
And we're starting this party from dusk

Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Dre

They see that low rider go by they're, like "Oh my"
You ain't got to tell me why you're sick 'cause I know why
I dip through in that six trey like sick 'em Dre
I'm an itch that they can't scratch, they sick of me
But hey, what else can I say? I love L.A.
'Cause over and above all, it's just another day
And this one begins where the last one ends
Pick up where we left off and get smashed again
I'll be dammed, just f*cked around and crashed my Benz
Driving around with a smashed front end
Let's cash that one in
Grab another one from out the stable
The Monte Carlo, El Camino or the El Dorado
The hell if I know
Do I want leather seats or vinyl?
Decisions, decisions
Garage looks like Precision Collision
Or Maaco beats quake like Waco
Just keep the bass low speakers away from your face though

So crack a bottle, let your body waddle
Don't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto
O-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe
Got one riding shotgun and no not one of them got clothes
Now where's the rubbers, who's got the rubbers?
I noticed there's so many of them
And there's really not that many of us
And ladies love us, my posse's kicking up dust
It's on till the break of dawn
And we're starting this party from dusk

And I take great pleasure in introducing, 50 Cent

It's bottle after bottle
The money ain't a thing when you party with me
It's what we into, it's simple
We ball out of control like you wouldn't believe
I'm the Napalm, the bomb, the Don, I'm King Kong
Get rolled on wrapped up and reigned on
I'm so calm through Vietnam ring the alarm
Bring the Chandon, burn marijuana, do what you want
Nigga on and on till the break of what
Get the paper man I'm caking you know I don't give a f*ck
I spend it like it don't mean nothing
Blow it like its supposed to be blown
Motherf*cker I'm grown
I stunt, I style, I flash the shit
I gets what the f*ck I want so what I trick?
Fat-ass Birkin bag, some classy shit Jimmy Choo shoes
I say, "Move," a bitch move

So crack a bottle, let your body waddle
Don't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto
O-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe
Got one riding shotgun and no not one of them got clothes
Now where's the rubbers, who's got the rubbers?
I noticed there's so many of them
And there's really not that many of us
And ladies love us, my posse's kicking up dust
It's on till the break of dawn
And we're starting this party from dusk

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Written by: Jean Renard, Trevor Lawrence Jr., Andre Young, Mark Batson, Curtis Jackson, Marshall Mathers, Dawaun Parker

Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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