Lyrics:
hoes like Idaho potatoes (potatoes)
What am I to do with life as a G?
Being from where I be, D-P-G (where you from?)
It's magnifico
Ran into this
original
Dogg Pound criminal, ya ever heard of me?
Kurupt, Young Gotti, motherfucker D-P
Why is life fucked up? Toe-up
Scrapin' from the flo' up
the mix, runnin' for your life
Time to get home see somebody fool caught a
Straight to the dome
For no reason, death is still the season
Everybody's scared,
you what you want
The rhymes I got plenty, degrees one hundred and twenty
And if you want some then jump the fuck in it
Love of my life
Ring,
is in full information gathering mode
She remembers to this day what I ordered, not the most Expensive nor the least expensive
Menu items, as someone
(*background is Black Sabbath's "Iron Man," performed by the group Metal Church*)
(*chanting*)
[Verse 1]
You could strike a match in my hand
Too
Take high wit'cha just right, it'll be like Michael get ordered, a viper you know
Yeah, a viper cause you might lose a life to the side by like
What
original man
Cross water
My team break border and court order
ESP network, TNT explosive expert
Your head jerk backflip, illegal life shit
Bad guys and black
to mix yo cream
I told you it ain't what it really seems
they really wanna see me dead
Another black boy just full of lead
Not in my bed
have lovely
what was foul
She said that the pro-black was goin' out of style
She said, "Afrocentricity was of the past"
So she got into R&B, hip-house, bass,
what was foul
She said that the pro-black was goin' out of style
She said, "Afrocentricity was of the past"
So she got into R&B, hip-house, bass,
know the cost just to being a boss
Back in the day I was in the halls
Rocking Polo mix that shit with Lacoste (polo)
My belt designed by Gucci (gucci)
nigga's he got?
Or what, how many nigga's is hot?
Yo, yeah you a fake wanna be rich nigga, bitch sticker
You know, that get on the stand and snitch
life slip away
Its all fake anyways
What is real man who's to say
All these white lies
I be sounding little racist
Preach black lives
You be calling me
were all the same inside
White or black or mix and match
Whatever shade there is no catch
I find it sad and quite confusing
How people find this stuff
yellin' I should rippity rap more
I'm known to black out, y'all resemble the eye scores
Flow so much I need life guards
Not like Rikers, them some whole
of an elite group of people
(Lyrics are swift and strong) never feeble
What we said yesterday will stand by tomorrow
While some chose to borrow
Brothers are
original
Dogg Pound criminal, ya ever heard of me?
Kurupt, Young Gotti, motherfucker D-P
Why is life fucked up? Toe-up
Scrapin' from the flo' up
If you ain’t noticed it yet notice him I just showed you and shit
The MaFuckin definition of what a Dope Original Artist is
Picture a starvin artist
a fuck.
Chances are usually not good
'Cause I freeze with my hands on a hot hood.
And gettin' jacked by the you-know-who.
When in a black and white
Ladies and gentlemen
I don't know what this is coming down through the audience
But look like it just came out of the basement (yeah)
Know what I'm
Ladies and gentlemen
I don't know what this is coming down through the audience
But look like it just came out of the basement (yeah)
Know what I'm
Certain man think I'm not lyrical
Like I'm not one of the grim originals
Like I don't get on the mix and kill em all
Don't fuck with Ape-X Joe
Grime scene
wife because of it
But I got this life because of it
Told ya, game don't never get old
[Sir Mix-A-Lot - talking]
Yeah don't grab the game bull by
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