Lyrics:
fore wall, necklace wearin' beard
You don't want this money till it's rich
Buy my album, coded by Dirty, set you free
Go against the grain, I got
Got the squad with me and all they did was gimme love
Foot Locker, twenty deep, a nigga spend a dub
G-Wagen for my bitch, that girl go live it up
truth
Too many lyrics 'bout houses and loot
Too many Walt Disney characters, mouses and goofs
I mean you know I love a challenge, but challenged by
Check this out.
[Snoop Dogg]
Welcome to the house the D O double G built
We got honey cream silk and milk
We make that big bank
can't deny it) I'm the same ol' G
The Guc' frames got the same gold G
Duke can you frame O-3, cause if you see me on ya corner wit a 40
It ain't gonna
Don't get frustrated, it's complicated, he always with his friends
Look, there he go, by himself, slippin', he in that Benz
(Nigga, get out the car, you
a spade a spade even in 3 card monte/ it's too real for the dealer to conceal/ so when I call you out don't give a f*** how y'all phil/ word to Jackson
on your fucking wall, necklace-wearing bitch
You don't want this money till it's rich
Buy my album, coded by Dirty, set you free
Go against the grain, I
my own!
(Can you tell em man?)
I got my own, got my own!
Snoop, Snoop!
I don't need no chick to buy me shit
See that whip outside? yeah, that's my
doin' up there, selling crack to Michael Jackson's uncles again?
Come on, man, I need you, I got you a spot on the comedy show opening up for T.I.
Come
Daddy, Kool G and
LL who always keep the girls jingling
C'mon honey dip, you can jingle on my (Yo, cool chill)
When it comes to female rappers, bust it,
bunch
Everybody want to talk cause I'm rappin'
They askin' me what happened
Is it true you did a flick with Janet Jackson
I can't sleep they takin'
hard stare seem to scare all my sister's kids
So you know, I don't hang around the house much
This all-night, money makin' got me outta touch
Shit,
try to shine I make your heart work proper
And that's comin from the drifter and if ya
Are-you-IN YA L-I-P, you will B-E-G-O-N-E
So let the guests
'bout the new generation, man
Fuck these niggas, I'll slash your fucking faces
You niggas ain't sold shit, not an album or a rock
Pussy nigga putting
'Cause they might roll by, recognize it
And then come inside at night ready to fire with
Guns like he ain't got none
Joke's on them when his Uzi weighs
Just cause you up in this bitch
Don't mean you gon' hit this shit
You better roll somethin'
Coughin' like you got a cold or somethin'
Tryna OD on THC
of a hip-hop rhyme savior
Salmon and capers, fame and lawsuits
You looking at me in Chucks, I'm looking at y'all suits
Me and Top Dawg playing
'bout the new generation, man
Fuck these niggas, I'll slash your fucking faces
You niggas ain't sold shit, not an album or a rock
Pussy nigga putting
If Michael Jackson came alive right now
He'd ask you to smoke one for him
So in his honor
You niggas Spud Webb, coming up short
Think you're Dee
I want Benjamin Franklins, but I'm cool wit some Jackson's like Michael and Tito
Always knew you was corny, frito
Niggas be green on a daily, shego
yeah, you tellin' Flav we got to let 'em know
Here's a letter to the New York Post
The worst piece of paper on the east coast
Matter of fact the whole
gave a fuck what the media gotta say about me
Nigga I ain't got no motherfucking English
I'm from the hood
And you know what?
If a motherfucker come
fuckin' way
But here I am, workin' in the studio
And your album ain't out because you're movin' slow
By the time you make one I'll be on ten
Hit the studio
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