Lyrics:
d'oeuvres
Why, we only live to serve
Try the grey stuff, it's delicious
Don't believe me, ask the dishes
They can sing
They can dance
After all, miss,
racks and I don't got a deal
These louis kicks they be hurting my heals
She tryna fuck she said I got a pill
Addys and Xannys the pain they gon heal
Ten
It's just me, besides I'm just a G
Wit the O in the front, I know what you want
Believe… I'm sucka-free
[Chorus] 2X
(Joe)
Back up your work, hit
Astro, yeah
Sun is down, freezin' cold
That's how we already know, winter's here
My dawg would probably do it for a Louis belt
That's just all he
you do
Do you remember everything that you did before
The way the bad action opens Karmic door
I'm a leave it up to God what he got for you
I'm
over now, let the words go free
And don't start thinking 'bout you and me
You were always by my side
Yeah and love, it took its own sweet ride
Left
That's right, album number ten, Short Dawg's in the house
It's gettin' close to the end y'all
But we gonna kick it like this on the last album
takes time
The love rn on the downtime
And I’m working in this bitch like its overtime
Gotta Stay way back from the two time
Hit it 3x 4x then I’m outta
today yeah
She is on a place
Counting days
And it won't be long now
Down by the station there's you
See what a ticket can do
Big dreams and nobody knows
Ki double s
Don't know love
Keep heart in chest
I do black and white like chess
Also both caramel flavour
What uno
About caramel tone
Hybrid flex
Mix
All its armies and its leaders are startin' to fall
No you don't know, what time it is
Ten seconds flat said is what it will take
To make your move
steady flowing
Sitting on the wall while the DJ gets it going
Fellas grab your ladies, ladies grab your man
That's when this 5'5" angel took me by the hand
Fuck wrong with these ho niggas?
Don't do coke, I don't blow niggas
I don't tell niggas, I show niggas
And it's never less than like four niggas
Four
don't knock you I just blame it on your own head
Pork on the fork, widen the pot
By any means if you like it or not
Malcom X, by any means
Many fourteen
peace, deep
Back to these niggaz in the seven-deuce
A mac-10 out the window bout to let it loose, what could I do?
Run for cover and return fire
Die
and takin' trips,
I mean, there she goes up in my mix
From Paris, Peru, to every club
(She be tearin' it up, what)
She is so sexy and I'm into her
Yeah,
Dogg) REPEAT X 2]
Yeah and ya don't stop cause it's 1-8-7 on an undercover cop
[Verse Two:Snoop Dogg]
Three and to the Two and Two and to the One
Head
Colora-do
[Chorus: x2]
You already know what it is, tappin' the bottles, chippin' lips
Rollin' up another thumper in me, all already kill it (?)
Okay, Comme Des Garçons and some new Saint Laurent
I mix Gianni Versace with Coco Chanel
I throw on some Fendi, a mink when it's windy
Too cold
Help me get it down and we can split 100%
Run a rapper through a maze like an experiment
Word up, you know the legendary Roots crew, yo
You don't
for a nigga to get peace.
Now it's broken and can't be fixed.
'Cause police and little black niggers don't mix so
Now I'm creepin' through the fall.
I'ma be on death row just like Suge Knight'nem
I stand ten toes, I'm not no buster
Seen him by the WinCo, worked on my jumper
Baby know I'm hotter
And I don't care what you think about me, but just remember
When it hits the fan, brother, whether it's next year, ten years
Twenty years from now,
Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Daft Punk
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