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Snoop Dogg - Doggystyle Album Lyrics



Snoop Dogg - Doggystyle Lyrics






Bathtub

[Snoop and some girl are in a bathtub]

Uhh, that felt good
Does it baby?
Yeah, rub my back for me
Where do you want me to rub it baby?
Right here
OK
Ohh
Turn around
Aight, check it out though
Why don't you put me on some music?
What you wanna hear baby?
Put me on some of that old gangsta shit
Aight
[ding dong] [needle scratching]
Damn! the f*ck is that, everytime i'm chillin someone ringing my
motherf*ckin doorbell
You want me to get that for you?
Yeah, handle that shit for me
Aight, i'll be right back
What the f*ck?

[diffrent voices say thigs to snoop]
Hey Snoop!
Yo, what's up Snoop Dogg?!

Hey, hey, hey Snoop, what's goin on?
What's up G-Dogg?
Ohh nuttin, tryin to live between this guy
I met tonight to have some dirt no way man
Right right
That nigga f*cked about right about now Dogg
I'm about ready to get up out this damn
I'm ready to get his shit up man
With motherf*ckin law after me
Punk ass bitches, sucka ass niggaz
I can't take this shit no more dogg
What?! Man you wanna get out the game, come on man
ou can, smoke a pound of bud everyday
You got a big screen TV, man, you wanna give all this up?
You got the dopest shit out on the streets
Nigga, is you crazy? That's the American Dream nigga
Well ain't it?
Fool, you better come on in
Wait wait wait wait hold up Snoop
Hey nigga, I put five dollars on the weed
You better quit f*ckin with me

[Dre] It's time to get busy in this motherf*cker...
Like we always do about this time
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CALVIN BROADUS, CURTIS MAYFIELD
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




G Funk Intro

[Intro:]

Yeah....
This is another story about dogs
For the dog that don't pee on trees, is a bitch
So says Snoop Dogg, get your pooper scooper
Cuz the nigga's talkin shit
Aroof! [echoes]

[Verse One: Rage]

I'm sippin on Tanqueray
with my my mind on my money and my mouth in the ganjahy
R-A-G to the motherf*ckin E
Back with my nigga S-N double O-P
[Dre] Yeah, and ya don't stop
Rage in effect I just begun to rock
[Dre] I said yeah, and you don't quit
[Snoop] Hey yo Rage would you please drop some gangsta shit
I rock ruff and stuff with my Afro Puffs
Handcuffed as I bust bout to tear shit up
Oh what did ya think I, could never think I
Would be the one to make you blink out, I catch you like Inca
Never will there ever be another like me
Um you can play the left, cuz it ain't no right in me
Out the picture out the frame out the box I knock em all
Smack em out the park, like A Friendly Game of Baseball
Grand, slam, yes I am
Kickin up dust and I don't give a god DAMN
Cuz I'm that lyrical murderer
Pleading guilty, you know for my skills I'm about to be
Filthy large, Rage in charge
You know what's happenin don't try to play large
this ain't no Rerun, see hun, don't ya wanna be one
A cover, word to wreck ya, cause I never get my vocals
I'm loco, close to Constatanople, uhhh!
I'll make 'em go coo-coo for my Cocoa
puffin stuff, aiyyo Snoop, you're up
Let these niggaz know that niggaz don't give a f*ck!

[Verse Two: Snoop Doggy Dogg]

This is just a small introduction to the G Funk Era
Everyday of my life I take a glimpse in the mirror
And I see motherf*ckers tryin to be like me
Every since I put it down with the D-R-E

[Outro:]

Foamin at the mouth and waggin his tail
Searchin through the yards with a keen sense of smell
Lookin for the business in heat
And when he find it he'll be sniffin her seat
We travel in packs and we do it from the back
How else can you get to the booty?
We do it Doggystyle, all the while we do it Doggystyle
Yo motherf*ckin hoes!!!
He f*cked the fleas off a bitch
He shaked the ticks off his dick
And in the booty, he buries his motherf*ckin bone
And if there's any left over
He'll roll over and take a doggy bag home

Damn, that Tanqueray is talkin to a nigga
I ain't bullshittin, one of y'all niggaz gotta get it
Man I got ta piss
Breath test?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CALVIN C. BROADUS, GEORGE CLINTON, PHILIPPE WYNN, ROBIN Y ALLEN
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC




Gin and Juice

[Daz Dillinger]
Yeah, Death Row
Dogg Pound, Snoop Dogg
Right back in they ass with the remix
Like that! We gotta hit 'em hard
And we gon' hit 'em like this
Pure gangsta shit!
Modefied, Purefied, nigga
Check it out!

[Snoop Dogg]
With so much drama in the L-B-C
It's kinda hard bein Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin up with funky ass shit like every single day
May I, kick a little something for the G's (yeah)
and, make a few ends as (yeah!) I breeze, through
Two in the mornin and the party's still jumpin
cause my momma ain't home
I got bitches in the living room gettin it on
and, they ain't leavin til six in the mornin (six in the mornin)
So what you wanna do, sheeeit
I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too
So turn off the lights and close the doors
But (but what) we don't love them hoes, yeah!
So we gonna smoke a ounce to this
G's up, hoes down, while you motherf*ckers bounce to this

[Chorus:]
Just rollin'! (I'm on a mission on the grind)
Just rollin'! (Homies get cought up, doin' time)
Just rollin'! (What?) (laid back)
Just rollin'! (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Just rollin'! (I'm on a mission on the grind)
Just rollin'! (Can't get cought up and do time)
Just rollin'! (Laid back)
Just rollin'! (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)

[Snoop Dogg]
Now, that, I got me some Seagram's gin
Everybody got they cups, but they ain't chipped in
Now this types of shit, happens all the time
You got to get yours but fool I gotta get mine
Everything is fine when you listenin to the D-O-G
I got the cultivating music that be captivating he
who listens, to the words that I speak
As I take me a drink to the middle of the street
and get to mackin to this bitch named Sadie (Sadie?)
She used to be the homeboy's lady (Oh, that bitch)
Eighty degrees, when I tell that bitch please
Raise up off these N-U-T's, cause you gets none of these
At ease, (Bow wow wow) as I mob with the Dogg Pound
(Ha ha) feel the breeze
beeeitch, I'm just

[Chorus:]
Just rollin'! (I'm on a mission on the grind)
Just rollin'! (Can't get cought up and do time)
Just rollin'! (What?) (laid back)
Just rollin'! (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Just rollin'! (Me and my dawg mashin' on the grind)
Just rollin'! (Can't get cought up and do time)
Just rollin'! (Laid back)
Just rollin'! (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
(Hah.. ha!)

[Snoop Dogg]
Later on that day
My homey Dr. Dre came through with a gang of Tanqueray
And a fat ass J, of some bubonic chronic that made me choke
Shit, this ain't no joke
I had to back up off of it and sit my cup down
Tanqueray and chronic, yeah I'm f*cked up now
But it ain't no stoppin, I'm still poppin
Dre got some bitches from the city of Compton
To serve me, not with a cherry on top
Cause when I bust my nut, I'm raisin up off the cot
Don't get upset girl, that's just how it goes
I don't love you hoes, I'm out the do'
And I'll be

[Chorus:]
Just rollin'! (On a mission on the grind)
Just rollin'! (Can't get cought up and do time)
Just rollin'! (Laid back)
Just rollin'! (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Just rollin'! (I'm on a mission on the grind)
Just rollin'! (Can't get cought up and do time)
Just rollin'! (What?) (laid back)
Just rollin'! (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Just rollin'! (On a mission and on the grind)
Just rollin'! (Out for quarter, nickels and dimes)
I'm just rollin' (Beeotch)
(With my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Yeah, this what I'm sayin'
Huh (Beeotch)
(With my mind on my money and my money on my mind)

[Ol' G Henny Loc]
Yo, again!
Back up in this muthaf*cka is Ol' G Henny Loc (what up?)
Tellin' you what's really goin' on, (check)
With the big (check) baby of 'em all, Snoop Doggy Dogg (show ya right)
Back up in ya muthaf*ckas
Flipp floppin' hoes like ?Fab Jacks?
What many f*ckas remain to be, clockin' them dollas
So recognize game as the D-O-double-G, dips with the Gin & Juice
Ya trick ass, bitches!! (ha ha)

[Daz Dillinger]
Yeah, just bounce to this
Snoop ounce to this
All my homies just bounce to this
Eastside just bounce to this
Westside, bounce to this
Nothside, bounce to this
Southside, bounce to this
Japan, bounce to this
U.K., bounce to this
Niggas from Aklohoma, bounce to this
Niggas from Texas, bounce to this
Niggas in Atlanta, bounce to this
Niggas in New York, bounce to this
Niggas in New York they bounce to this
Niggas in New York they bounce to this, check!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Romell Young, Calvin Broadus, Harry Wayne Casey, Raymond Guy Turner, Richard Raymond Finch, Steven R Arrington
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP




W Balls

That was Tha Dogg Pound here right on W Balls
187.4 on your FM dial
You're tuned in to the biggest balls of them all DJ Saul T. Nuts
Aye, don't forget about my homeboy EZ Dicc and the Jackoff Hour
That's happenin' at twelve o'clock tonight
Right now we got some new Snoop Doggy Dogg for that ass
This one is called, "Tha Shiznit"
You're about to go downtown, bitch
Right here on the station that plays only platinum hits
That's 187.4 on your FM dial
If you're lickin', that's W Balls

Everybody's got to hear the shit, on W Balls, W Balls, W Balls
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bernard Worrell, Calvin Broadus, George Clinton, William Earl Collins
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Tha Shiznit

[Verse 1:]
Poppin, stoppin, hoppin like a rabbit
When I take the nina Ross ya know I gota ta have it
I lay back in the cut retain myself
Think about the shit, and I'm thinkin wealth
How can I makes my grip
And how should I make that nigga straight slip
Set trip, gotta get him for his grip
As I dip around the corner, now I'm on a-nother
Mission, wishin, upon a star
Snoop Doggy Dogg with the caviar
In the back of the limo no demo, this is the real
Breakin niggaz down like Evander Holyfield, chill
To the next Episode
I make money, and I really don't love hoes
Tell ya the truth, I swoop in the Coupe
I used to sell loot, I used to shoot hoops
But now I, make, hits, every single day
With, that nigga, the diggy Dr. Dre
So lay back in the cut, motherf*cker 'fore you get shot
It's 1-8-7 on a motherf*ckin cop

[Verse 2:]
Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is
Snoop Dogg on the mic I'm about as crazy as Biz
Markie, spark the, chronic bud real quick
And let me get into some fly gangsta shit
Yeah, I lay back, stay back in the cut
Niggaz try to play the D-O-G like a mutt
I got a little message, don't try to see Snoop
I'm fin to f*ck a bitch, what's her name it's Luke
You tried to see me, on the TV, youse a B.G.
D-O-double-G, yes I'm a O.G.
You can't see my homey Dr. Dre
So what the f*ck a nigga like you gotta say
Gotta take a trip to the MIA
And serve your ass with a motherf*ckin AK
You, can't, see, the D-O-double-G, cause that be me
I'm servin um, swervin in the Coupe
The Lexus, flexes, from Long Beach to Texas
Sexist, hoes, they wanna get witht his
Cause Snoop Dogg is the shit, beeeitch!

[Verse 3:]
Ahhhh, I'm somewhat brain boggled
So I look to the microphone and slowly start to wobble
Grab it, have it, stick it to the plug
It's Snoop, Doggy, I got a got a fat dub
Sack of the chronic in my back pocket loc
Need myself a lighter so I can't take a smoke
I toke everyday, I loc everyday
With the P-O-U-N-D and my nigga Dr. Dre
Lay back in the cut, like I told your ass
Gimme the microphone and let me hit you with a blast
I got a little cousin by the name of Daz
And bitches who f*ck him, gimme the ass
Cause they know about the shit that we be goin through
And they know about the shit that I be puttin up
And they be knowin bout the shit I do when I'm on the mic
Cause Snoop Dogg is Trump tight like a virgin, the surgeon
Is Dr. Drizzay, so lizzay, and plizzay
With D-O-double-Gizzay the fly human being seein
No I'm not European bein all I can
When I put the motherf*ckin mic in my hand, and
You don't understand when I'm kickin
Cause Snoop is on the mic and I gets wicked, follow me
Listen to me, cause I do you like you wanna be done
Snoop Doggy Dogg on this three two one, umm
Dum, diddy-dum here I come
With the gat and the guitar was strung, I'm
Not that lunatic nigga who you thought I was
When I caught you slippin, I'm gon catch you then I peel your cap
Snapped back, relax
Ya better not be slippin with them deez on the '83 Cadillac
So we gonna smoke a ounce to this
G's up hoes down while you motherf*ckers bounce to this
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ANDRE YOUNG, CORDOZAR BROADUS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Domino Intro

Domino motherf*cker what's happenin'?
Ah, nigga, eat a dick, nigga
Don't break my mama's new glass table, nigga
Yeah, f*ck that, f*ck what they talkin' 'bout, nigga
F*ck that, nigga
Rack them motherf*ckin' dominoes up, nigga
Just look, ayy, look out for the table, nigga
F*ck that
Ayo, where's Snoop Dogg?
I don't know, that nigga just went upstairs with that big booty bitch, man
Ah, we ain't bustin' no nuts in my mama's spread
That nigga up there gettin' his socks blew the f*ck off
Gettin' his ass chewed out
Better ask somebody
Balls licked up and down
Hell yeah
Ayo, what's up with them niggas that was on the TV dissin' you?
Man f*ck them niggas, man I ain't thinkin' about that old shit, man
Buster ass, HIV pussy havin' motherf*ckers
Yo, yo, yo, Daz, easy come, easy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Edwin Birdsong, Calvin Broadus
Copyright: Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing




Lodi Dodi

Yeah, gotta say what's up to my nigga Slick Rick
For those who don't like it, eat a dick
But for those who with me, sing that shit
As it go a little something like this

La Di Da Di, we likes to party
We don't cause trouble, we don't bother nobody
We're, just some niggaz who're on the mic
And when we rock up on the mic we rock the mic (right)
For all my Doggs keepin y'all in health
Just to see you smile and enjoy yourself
Cuz it's cool when ya cause a cozy conditionin
Which we create, cuz that's our mission
So listen close, to what we say
Because this types of shit happens every-day
I woke up around 10 o'clock in the mornin
I gave myself a strech up, a mornin yawn and
went to the bathroom to wash up
I threw some soap on my face and put my hands up on a cup
and said um "Mirror mirror, on, the wall
Who is the top Dogg of them all?"
There was a rubble dubble, five minutes it lasted
The mirror said, "You are you conceited bastard"
Well that's true, that's why we never have no beef
So I slipped off my khakis and my gold leaf
Used Oil of Olay, cuz my skin gets pale
And then I got the file, for my fingernails
I'm true to the style on my behalf
I put some bubbles in the tub so I can take a bubble bath
Clean, dry, was my body and hair
I threw on my brand new Doggy underwear
for all the bitches I might take home
I got the Johnson baby powder and Cool Water cologne
Now I'm fresh, dressed, like a million bucks
Threw on my white sox, with my all blue chucks
Stepped out the house, stopped short, oh no
I went back in, I forgot my indo
Then I dilly (dally) I ran through an (alley)
I bumped into this smoker named (Sally) from the (Valley)
This was a girl playin hard to get
So I said "What's wrong?" cuz she looked upset
She said um

It's all because of you, i'm feelin said and blue
You went away, now my life is filled with rainy days
I love you so, how much you'll never know
Cause you took your dope away from me
A-huh, a-huh, ahuh

Damn, now what was I to do
She's cryin over me and she was feelin blue
I said, "Um, don't cry, dry your eye
And here comes your mother with those two little guys"
Her mean mother steps then says to me "Hi!!"
Decked Sally in the face and punched her in the eye
Punched her in the belly and stepped on her feet
Slammed the child on the hard concrete
The bitch was strong, the kids was gone
Somethin was wrong I said, "What was goin on?"
I tried to break up, I said, "Stop it, just leave her!"
She said, "If I can't smoke none, she can't either!"
She grabbed my closely by my socks
So I broke the hell out, and I grabbed my sack of rocks
But um, they gave chase, they caught up quick
They started cryin on my shoes and grabbin my dick
and sayin....

Why don't you give me a play
So we can brake it down the Long Beach way
And if you give me that okay
I'll give you all my love today
Doggy, Doggy, Doggy, can't you see
Somehow your words just hypnotize me
And I just love your jazzy ways
Doggy Dogg, your love is here to stay

And on and on and on she kept goin
The bitch been around before my mother's born!
I said, "Cheer up!" so I gave her a hit
I said, "You can't have me, I'm too young for you bitch!"
She said, "No you're not," then she starts cryin
I says I'm nineteen, she says, "Stop lyin!"
I says, "I am, go ask my mother
And with your wrinkled pussy, I can't be your lover"
Yeah, uhh, tic toc you don't stop
And to the, ah tic toc and you don't quit
Yeah, tic toc and ya don't stop, and to the
ah tic toc and ya don't quit, beeeotch!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Calvin Broadus, Douglas Davis, Ei Rokusuke, Hachidai Nakamura, Ricky Walters
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Murder Was the Case (DeathAfterVisualizingEternity)

Ayy, ayy, JC (hey, now you know)
What's up Enron (inhale, exhale with my flow)
Ain't that Snoop Dogg over there?
What, that nigga with that blue coat on? (Breakaway)
Yeah (talkin' like this)
Hell yeah, that's the nigga (the LE to the Z, two times, don't miss)
Nigga, roll up on the side of him, man (ain't nothing to do)
Roll your window down (if you break you get broke)
Man, hand me my motherf*cking Glock man, give me another clip (Me and Mr. G and it go smoke)
'Cause I'm finna smoke this fool
Yeah, roll the window down
Yeah, okay there he go
Ayy man, you Snoop Dogg?
Snoop, Snoop Doggy Dogg? (huh?)
Man, you Snoop Dogg fool
Man, f*ck that nigga
Nigga, man
Get that nigga, man
Man, get up fool, man (get up), get up man, he trying to run, man
Dump on that fool man, I don't give a f*ck (what? Get that sucker now)
F*ck you, nigga, uh
Yeah nigga, what's up?
Nigga
Yeah, mothaf*cka
Yeah nigga, one less nigga (yeah, yeah)
Yeah nigga, you's a dead motherf*cker now (f*ck that nigga, man)

As I look up at the sky
My mind starts tripping, a tear drops my eye
My body temperature falls
I'm shaking and they breaking tryna save the Dogg
Pumping on my chest and I'm screaming
I stop breathing, damn I see demons
Dear God, I wonder can you save me
I can't die, my boo boo's 'bout to have my baby
I think it's too late for praying, hold up
A voice spoke to me and it slowly started saying
(Bring your lifestyle to me, I'll make it better)
How long will I live? (Eternal life and forever)
Oh, will I be the G that I was?
(I'll make your life better than you can imagine or even dreamed of
So relax your soul, let me take control
Close your eyes my son)
My eyes are closed

Murder, murder was the case that they gave me
Murder, murder was the case that they gave me

I'm fresh up out my coma
I got my mama and my daddy and my homies in my corner
It's gonna take a miracle they say
For me to walk again and talk again but anyway
I get fronted some P's to get back on my feet
And everything that nigga said came to reality
Living like a baller loc
Having money and blowing hella chronic smoke
I bought my mama a Benz, and bought my boo boo a Jag'
And now I'm rolling in a nine-trizzay El Do-Rad
(Just remember who changed your mind
'Cause when you start set-tripping, that ass is mine)
Indeed, agreed proceed to smoke weed
Never have a want, never have a need
They say I'm greedy but I still want mo'
'Cause my eyes wanna journey some more, really doe, check it out

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord, my soul to keep
If I should die, before I wake
I pray the Lord, my soul to take

No more indo, gin and juice
I'm on my way to Chino, rolling on the Grey Goose
Shackled from head to toe
Twenty-five with a izz-el, with nowhere to gizzo, I know
Them niggas from the other side recognize my face
'Cause it's the O.G. D-O-double-G, L-B-C
Mad dogging niggas 'cause I don't care
Red jumpsuit with two braids in my hair
Niggas stare as I enter the center
They send me to a level, three yard, that's where I stay
Late night I hear toothbrushes scraping on the floor
Niggas getting they shanks, just in case the war, pops off
'Cause you can't tell what's next
My little homie Baby Boo took a pencil in his neck
And he probably won't make it to see twenty-two
I'll put that on my mama, I'ma ride for you Baby Boo

Murder, murder was the case that they gave me
Murder, murder was the case that they gave me
Murder, murder was the case that they gave me
Murder, murder was the case that they gave me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Calvin Broadus, Warren Griffith, Rojai Tarwick, Aandre Romell Young
Copyright: Lyrics © DAZAMATAZ, INC., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, BRET D. LEWIS DBA SMOKING WORD RECORDS




Serial Killa

Six million ways to die, choose one

[Verse One: Kurupt, Daz]

It's time to escape, but I don't know where the f*ck i'm headed
Up or down, right or left, life or death
I see myself in a mist of smoke
Death becomes any nigga that takes me for a joke
We hit a five dollar stick, now we puttin in work
Unaccountable amounts of dirt, death becomes all niggaz
anybody killa, you know what the deal is
Nigga, you know what the real is

I see some mark brand niggaz on the corner flaggin me down
Sayin, "Yo Daz, what's up with the Pound?
Is that nigga snoop alright? Aiyyo what's up with the crew?
Is them niggaz in jail, or are them niggaz through?"
i said, if you ain't up on thangs
Snoop Dogg is the name, Dogg Pound's the game
It's like this they don't understand
It's an everyday thang, to gangbang
Make that twist, don't be a bitch, let these niggaz know
What's up with you I represent the Pound and Death Row
And can't no other motherf*cker in L.A. or Long Beach
and Compton, and Watts, see D-O-G's
Now, you can't come and you can't run, and you can't
see long to the G of the gang
One gun is all that we need, to put you to rest
Pump pump, put 2 slugs dead in your chest
Now you dead then a motherf*cker, creepin and sleepin
6 feet deep in, f*ckin with the Pound is

[RBX] Suicide, it's a suicide [4X]

[Verse Two: Snoop Doggy Dogg]

The cloud becomes black, and the sky becomes blue
Now you in the midst of the Dogg Pound crew
Ain't no clue, on why the f*ck we do what we do
Leave you in a state of paranoia, oooh
Don't make a move for your gat so soon cuz
I drops bombs like Platoon (ay nigga)
Walk with me, hold my hand and let me lead you
I'll take you on a journey, and I promise I won't leave you
(I won't leave you) until you get the full comprehension
And when you do, that's when the mission
or survival, becomes your every thought
Keep your eyes open, cuz you don't wanna be caught
Half steppin with your weapon on safety
Now break yourself motherf*cker 'fore you make me
take this 211 to another level
I come up with your ends, you go down with the devil
Now roam through the depths of hell
Where the rest your buster ass homeboys dwell
Well...

[RBX] Suicide, it's a suicide [4X]

Now tell me, what's my motherf*ckin name
Serial killa, serial killa, serial killa

(Wake up in the morning, to Lucky Charms cereal)

[Verse Three: RBX]

Deep, deep like the mind of Minolta, now picture this!
Let's picnic inside a morgue
Not pic-a-nic baskets, pic-a-nic caskets
And I got the machine, that cracks your f*ckin chest plates
open and release them guts
Then I release def cuts
Brutal, jagged edged, totally ruffneck
Now everybody scream nuff respect to the X
Nuff respect given
Disrespect and you will not be livin
Word to momma, Emma, drama, dilemma

[RBX] Suicide, it's a suicide [4X]

Now tell me, what's my motherf*ckin name
Serial killa, serial killa, serial killa

(Wake up in the morning, to Lucky Charms cereal)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ANDRE YOUNG, ANDREW NOLAND, ERIC COLLINS, CORDOZAR BROADUS, DELMAR ARNAUD, RICARDO BROWN, RALPH MIDDLEBROOK, NORMAN NAPIER, PHILIP THOMAS, MARVIN PIERCE, GREGORY WEBSTER, WALTER MORRISON, LEROY BONNER, MARSHALL JONES
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP, NW ROYALTY CONSULTING, LLC.




Who Am I (What's My Name)?

Ey, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Tha Dogg Pound's in the house (the bomb)
Ey, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Tha Dogg Pound's in the house)
Snoop Doggy Dogg (the bomb)
Snoop Doggy Dogg (Dogg)

From the depths of the sea, back to the block
Snoop Doggy Dogg, funky as the, the, The D.O.C.
Went solo on that ass, but it's still the same
Long Beach is the spot where I served my 'caine
Follow me, follow me, follow me, follow me, but don't lose your grip
Nine-trizzay's the yizzear for me to f*ck up shit
So I ain't holdin' nothin' back
And motherf*cker I got five on the twenty sack
It's like that and as a matter of fact (rat-tat-tat-tat)
'Cause I never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
Yeah, so peep out the manuscript
You see that it's a must we drop gangsta shit
What's my motherf*ckin' name?

Snoop Doggy Dogg (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Snoop Doggy Dogg (the bomb)
Da-da-da-da-da, do-do-do-do-do-do
Da-da (Dogg)

It's the bow to the wow, creepin' and crawlin'
Yiggy yes y'allin', Snoop Doggy Dogg in
The motherf*ckin' house like every day
Droppin' shit with my nigga mister Dr. Dre
Like I said, niggas can't f*ck with this
And niggas can't f*ck with that
Shit that I drop 'cause you know it don't stop
Mister One Eight Seven on a motherf*ckin' cop
Tic-toc, never the Glock, just some nuts and a cock
Robbin' motherf*ckers, then I kill them bloodclaats
And I step through the fog and I creep through the smog
'Cause I'm Snoop Doggy (who?) Doggy (what?) Doggy (Dogg)

Snoop Doggy Dogg
Snoop Doggy Dogg (the bomb)
(Bow, wow, wow, yippy-yo, yippy-yay)
(Bow, wow, wow, yippy-yo) (the bomb)
(Bow, wow, wow, yippy-yo, yippy-yay)
(Bow, wow, wow, yippy-yo-yo-yo-yo-yo) (Dogg)

Now just throw your hands in the motherf*ckin' air
And wave the motherf*ckers like ya just don't care (Dogg)
Yeah, roll up the dank and pour the drank
And watch your step (why?) 'Cause Doggy's on the gank
My bankroll's on swole
My shit's on hit, legit, now I'm on parole, stroll
With Tha Dogg Pound right behind me
And up in your bitch, is where ya might find me
Layin' that, playin' that G Thang
She want the nigga with the biggest nuts, and guess what?
He is I, and I am him, slim with the tilted brim
What's my motherf*ckin' name?

Snoop Doggy Dogg (the bomb)
Snoop Doggy Dogg
Snoop Doggy Dogg (the bomb)
Snoop Doggy Dogg (Dogg)
Da-da-da-da-da, do-do-do-do-do-do
Da-da (the bomb)
Da-da-da-da-da, do-do-do-do-do-do
Da-da (the bomb)

Doggy Dogg, Doggy Dogg, Doggy Dogg (the bomb)
(Bow, wow, wow, yippy-yo) (the bomb)
What is his name? (Dogg)
Snoop Dogg and the Dogg Pound (Dogg) (the bomb)
Oh, yeah, Snoopy Dogg, Snoopy Dogg
Snoopy Dogg (the bomb)
Yeah, yeah (Dogg), I know his name
Come on Snoopy, come on Snoopy (the bomb)
And Tha Dogg Pound
Snoopy Dogg (the bomb), Snoopy Dogg
Snoopy Dogg (Dogg, Dogg)
(Nasty Dogg, Doggy Dogg)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Cordazar Calvin Broadus Jr., David Lee Spradley, Garry Marshall Shider, George Bernard Worrell, George Clinton Jr., Jerome Eugene Brailey, Moses Anthony Davis, William Earl Collins
Copyright: Lyrics © Word Collections Publishing




For All My Niggaz & Bitches


Well it's that slow flow, D-O-Double-G, nigga
See these other fools but you can't see me, nigga
Who am I? (It's Kurupt motherf*cker)
Do or die (we gives a f*ck motherf*cker)
So slow your roll, I'm in control like Janet
The loc'est twenty-one year old nigga that's on this planet
Take it for granted, if ya wanna, 'cause I'm gonna
Grab my strap then clear the corner, biatch

To all my bitches and my niggas and my niggas and my bitches
Wave your motherf*cking hands in the air
And if you don't give a shit like we don't give a shit
Wave your motherf*cking fingers in the air
To all my niggas and my bitches and my bitches and my niggas
Wave your motherf*cking hands in the air
And if you don't give a f*ck like we don't give a f*ck
Keep your motherf*cking hands in the air

Now on a one (one), two (two), three (three), who could it be
Coming with a group of gangsta shit for '93?
So '94's arrived, nigga, back on up
And let me and my dawg Kurupt f*ck shit up
Now can't nobody see me here or there
Wherever I bails, I put it down all around
'Cause ain't shit for sale, in the coupe
With the beat flossing off gold D's
And my cousin Snoop packs well, you know what I mean
And it don't take much, for Tha Dogg Pound to bust a cap
In yo' ass, for getting us all f*cked up
Now check it, it's a problem for niggas like those
Who supposed to be the shit, but steadily bitching like hoes
(Yes y'all) all the the dawgs (yes y'all) yiggy y'all
Stay full of that Gin and juice and have a ball

I packs a strap, like that, I kicks it like this
Now how many bitches must get dick?
Before they say, "Oh is it that nigga from back in the day?
Ya never ever thought I'd see him bustin with Dr. Dre"
'Cause I grips mics, I rips mics in half
Hoes be coming to my flat so I can tap that ass, so all

To all my niggas and my bitches and my niggas and my bitches
Wave your motherf*cking hands in the air
And if you don't give a shit like we don't give a shit
Wave your motherf*cking fingers in the air
To all my niggas and my bitches and my bitches and my niggas
Wave your motherf*cking hands in the air
And if you don't give a f*ck (a give a shit)
Like we don't give a f*ck (give a shit)
Keep your motherf*cking fingers in the air

You're headed my way, nigga you best to hit a U-turn quick
So what's happening? I'm capping shit up like a Western flick
The kingpin of the clique, top notch
Seventeen shot Glock cocked, so all niggas drop
The run of the mill fool get broke off for tryna serve
The best Kurupt's era, peep the terror, 'cause this a murder fest
I smokes chronic everyday, so what have we?
Another motherf*cker, getting served like some cavi'
Now who drops (ruff rhymes)? I gots the Juice like 2Pac
(Plus I'm) rolling with two Glocks
Blind motherf*ckers can't see Kurupt
Hell-raising like Pinhead, beware I'm tearing shit the f*ck up
Slow your roll, like your legs was broken
Who's joking? Rakim never joked, so why should I loc?
And that's my idol, check the vital rhyme flow though
Running 'em like Flo Jo, stranded on Death Row
Mediocre motherf*ckers die 'cause I'm serving
And they can't f*ck with or see me I'm mass murdering
(Smoking indo, look out my window I suppose) Yeah
(These niggas don't understand how we kicks different flows)
(I'm raw like new footage) I'm rugged like a BFGoodrich
(Bring your whole set and get your hood lynched)
(Drop to your knees like a dog in heat)
Peep the murderous styles and the poetical techniques

So all my niggas and my bitches and my bitches and my niggas
Wave your motherf*cking hands in the air
And if you don't give a shit like we don't give a shit
Keep your motherf*cking fingers in the air
To all my niggas and my bitches and my bitches and my niggas
Wave your motherf*cking hands in the air
And if you don't give a f*ck like we don't give a f*ck
Keep your motherf*cking fingers in the air

Check it out, it's Rage, ready for the breakdown
Take down, when it comes to the mic I'm putting my weight down
And that's a hundred-seventy-five pounds of beef
Beating yo' ass down to the concrete
Fool, act like you know
I'm stranded on Death Row with nowhere to go, so
What's a girl to do?
Take out a crew, or two, a few, what you want to do?

Throw your guns in the motherf*cking air, we don't care
(Niggas don't give a f*ck, nigga)
About nothing at all, just my dawgs and clocking the grip, bitch
(Niggas don't give a f*ck, nigga)
That's why I can kick it so tough, 'cause when times get rough, my
(Niggas don't give a f*ck, nigga)
The clique that I'm with, don't give a shit, you know why?
(Real niggas don't give a f*ck)

Now all the bitches and the niggas
Wave your motherf*cking hands in the air
To all my niggas and my bitches
Wave your motherf*cking hands in the air
To all my niggas and my bitches
Wave your motherf*cking hands in the air
And if you don't give a f*ck like we don't give a f*ck
Keep your motherf*cking fingers in the air
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Young, Robin Allen, Cordozar Broadus, Delmar Arnaud, Ricardo Brown
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Ain't No Fun (If The Homies Can't Have None)

[ Featuring Warren G, Nate Dogg, Kurupt ]

You're back now at the jack-off hour, this is DJ EZ Dicc
On WBALLZ, right now, somethin' new, by Snoop Doggy Dogg
And this one goes out to the ladies, from all the guys
A big bow wow wow, 'cause we gon' make it a little misty here tonight
This is DJ EZ Dicc
On the station that slaps you across your fat ass
With a fat dick

When I met you last night, baby
Before you opened up your gap
I had respect for you, lady
But now I take it all back
'Cause you gave me all your pussy
And you even licked my balls
Leave your number on the cabinet
And I promise, baby, I'll give you a call
Next time I'm feelin' kinda horny
You can come on over, and I'll break you off
And if you can't f*ck that day, baby
Just lay back, and open your mouth
'Cause I have never met a girl
That I love in the whole wide world

Well, if Kurupt gave a f*ck about a bitch I'd always be broke
I'd never have no motherf*ckin' indo to smoke
I gets loc'd and looney, bitch, you can't do me
Do we look like BBD? You hoochie groupie
I have no love for hoes
That's somethin' that I learnt in Tha Pound
So how the f*ck am I supposed to pay this ho
Just to lay this ho?
I know the pussy's mines, I'ma f*ck a couple more times
And then I'm through with it, there's nothin' else to do with it
Pass it to the homie, now you hit it
'Cause she ain't nothin' but a bitch to me
And y'all know, that bitches ain't shit to me
I gives a f*ck, why don't y'all pay attention?
Approach it with a different proposition, I'm Kurupt
Hoe, you'll never be my only one, trick ass bitch

It ain't no fun, if the homies can't have none
It ain't no fun, if the homies can't have none
It ain't no fun, if the homies can't have none
It ain't no fun, if the homies can't have none

Guess who's back in the motherf*ckin' house?
With a fat dick for your motherf*ckin' mouth
Hoes recognize, niggas do too
'Cause when bitches get scandalous and pull a voodoo
What you gon' do? You really don't know
So I'd advise you not to trust that hoe
Silly of me to fall in love with a bitch
Knowin' damn well I'm too caught up with my grip
Now as the sun rotates and my game grows bigger (uh-huh)
How many bitches wanna f*ck this nigga named Snoop Doggy?
I'm all the above
I'm too swift on my toes to get caught up with you hoes
But see, it ain't no fun, if my homies can't get a taste of it
'Cause you know I don't love 'em

Woo! Hey, now ya know, inhale, exhale with my flow
One for the money, two for the bitches
Three to get ready, and four to hit the switches
In my Chevy, six-fo', red to be exact
With bitches on my side, and bitches on my back
So back up bitch because I'm strugglin'
Just get on your knees and then start jugglin'
These motherf*ckin' nuts in your mouth
It's me, Warren G, the nigga with the clout (woo)

It ain't no fun, if the homies can't have none
It ain't no fun, if the homies can't have none
It ain't no fun, if the homies can't have none
It ain't no fun, if the homies can't have none

(Soul)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Nathaniel Hale, Andre Young, Warren, Iii Griffin, Ricardo Brown, Calvin Broadus
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Chronic Relief Intro

Can we get a motherf*ckin moment of silence, for the small chronic break?
A-hah, niggaz be brown-nosing these hoes and shit.
Takin bitches out to eat, and spendin money on these hoes, knowhatI'msayin?
I treat a bitch like 7-Up I never have I never well
I tell a bitch like this
Bitch, you without me is like Harry Melvin without Bluenotes
You'll never go platinum
Hey Daz, give me a light nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Doggy Dogg World

We'd like to welcome y'all to the fabulous Carolina West
I own this motherf*cker and my name is Taa-Dow
Y'all niggas know who I am y'all niggas tearing up shit
But we got something old, and something new for y'all tonight
Put your hands together for Snoop Doggy Dogg
The Dogg Pound, and the fabulous Dramatics

[Snoop Doggy Dogg]
It's like everywhere I look, and everywhere I go
I'm hearing motherf*ckers trying to steal my flow
But it ain't no thing cause see my nigga Coolio
Put me up on the game when I step through the do'
Ya know, some of these niggas is so deceptive
Using my styles like a contraceptive
I hope ya get burnt, it seems ya haven't learnt
It's the nick nack patty wack, I still got the bigger sack
So put your gun away, run away, 'cause I'm back (why?)
Hit em up, get em up, spit em up, now
Tell me what's going on
It make me want to holler, 'cause my dollars come in ozones
Lone for the break-up, so take off your clothes
And quit trying to spit at my motherf*cking hoes
Seaking of hoes, I'll get to the point
You think you got the bomb 'cause I rolled you a joint
You'se a flea and I'm the big Dogg
I'll scratch you off my balls with my motherf*cking paws
Y'alls, niggas, better recognize
And see where I'm coming from it's still East Side till I die
Why ask why? As the world keeps spinning to the D-O-Double-G-why

[Chorus]
It's a crazy mixed up world, it's a Doggy Dogg World
It's a Doggy Dogg World, it's a Doggy Dogg World
The Dogg's World

[Kurupt]
Well if you give me ten bitches then I'll f*ck all ten
See my homey Snoop Doggy sipping juice and gin
Don't slip, I'm fo' to set trip, to get papers
Styles vary, packing flavor like Life Savors
Ain't that something, talk shit and I'm dumping
I had your whole f*cking block bumping
Don't sweat, but check the technique, I'm unique like China
Ya never find the bomb-a-rama then this Nigga behind ya
So peek-a-boo, clear the way, I'm coming through
One-two, three, you can't see me
I'm a G like that strapped with hit hard tactics
A f*cking menace, using hoes like tennis rackets
It's on again, it's on and popping
All I see is green, so there ain't no stopping
I want to see some panties dropping
I'm coming from L.A., she used to chill with Dre up in Compton
(All I ever did was just use that hoe
Show her my dickies, get with these, and kick flows)
I'm dishing out blues, I'm upsetting like bad news
Cut off khakis, french braids, and house shoes
Kurupt, the name's often marked for catching slugs
And I smoke weed for the f*ck of it
Ruff and rugged shit, it's unexplanitory how I gets wicked
But it's mandatory that I kick it
Check it, I'm runnin hoes in 94, now must I prove it
Hoes call me Sugar Ray for the way I be sticking and moving
Prepare for a war, it's on, I'm head hunting
Hit the button, and light shit up like Red Dawn
Peep, the massacre from a verbal assassin
Murdering with rhymes packing Tec-9's for some action
You really don't know, do you, you f*cking with a hog
You can't do me, I'm going out looney like O-Dog

[Chorus]

[Daz]
Tha Dogg Pound rocks the party (all night long)
Tell when (till the early morn)
It don't stop (and uh) it don't quit (for the)
The Dogg Pound clique (to drop the cavvy Dogg shit)

Diggity Daz out of the motherf*cking cut once mo'
So grab a seat and grab your gin and juice and check out the flow
I flip flop and serve hoes with a fat dick
Till I die I'm still screaming that (bitches ain't shit)
Now I'm the mack daddy, had he, not known about
The city where I'm from, dumb diddy dumb
As you groove to the gangster shit
The D-O-Double-G the P-O-you-N-D, the gangsta clique
Now as the Pound break it down with the gangsta funk
I can see and I can tell that's what the f*ck you want
So I blaze up the chronic, so I can get high
I promise I'll smoke chronic till the day that I die

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: RICHARD FIELDS, ANDRE YOUNG, CORDOZAR BROADUS, RICARDO ANTOINE BROWN, DELMAR DREW ARNAUD, BELINDA KAYE WILSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP




Class Room Intro

Good Morning boys and girls, I'm your substitute teacher
My name is Mr. Buckwort
The topic fo' today is, what you would like to be when you grow up
You, over there in the jean shirt
What you wanna be when you grow up?

"I wanna be a police officer"

Alright, that's a pretty good profession
You over there in that black shirt
What you wanna be when you grow up?

"I would like to be a fire man"

Alright, that's a pretty good profession too
Hey, you in the back with those French braids, what's yo name?

"My name is Snoop"

Hi, Snoop, what you wanna be when you grow up?

"I wanna be a motherf*ckin hustla, ya betta ask somebody"
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Gz And Hustlas

[Chorus:]

This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
This is for the hustlas, now back to the Gz
This is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas
This is for the hustlas now back to the Gz

[Verse One:]

Freeze, at ease, now let me drop some more of them keys
It's 19-9-tre so let me just play
it's Snoop Dogg, I'm on the mic, I'm back with Dr. Dre
But this time I'ma hit yo' ass with a touch
To leave motherf*ckers in a daze, f*cked up
So sit back relax new jacks get smacked
It's Snoop Doggy Dogg I'm at the top of the stack
I don't lack for a second, and I'm still checkin
The dopest motherf*cker that ya hearin on the record
it's me, ya see, S-N-double-O-P
D-O-double-G-Y, the D-O-double-G
I'm fly as a falcon, soarin through the sky
And I'm high till I dizzie, rizzide
So check it, I get busy, I make your head dizzy
I blow up your mouth like I was Dizzy Gillespie
I'm crazy, you can't phase me
I'm the S oh yes, I'm fresh, I don't f*ck with the stress
I'm all about the chronic, bionic ya see
Every single day, chillin with the D-O-double-G's
P-O-U-N-D that's my clique, my crew
Ya f*ck with us, we gots to f*ck you up
I thought ya knew, but yet and still
Ya wanna get real, now it's time to peel, ya say chill
and feel, the motherf*ckin realism
Snoop Doggy Dogg is on the mic i'm hittin hard as steel nigga

[Chorus]

[Verse Two:]

How many hoes in your motherf*ckin group
Wanna take a ride in my 7-8 Coupe, DeVille
Chill, as i take you on a trip
where them niggaz ride, and slide, you know about the East Side
Niggaz like myself, here to show you where it's at
With my hoes on my side, and my strap on my back
Papers I stack daily, and Death Row is still the label that pays me
but you know how that goes
We flow toe for toe, if you ain't on the Row
F*ck you and your hoe, really doe, so check it
It's Snoop Doggy Dogg on the solo tip
Still clockin grip, and really don't give a sheeit
about nuttin at all, just my Doggs, steppin through the fog
and i'm still gonna fade em all
With the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin
How many hoes in ninety-four will I be bangin?
Every single one, to get the job done
As I dip, skip, flip, right back to two one
Where the sun be shinin and i be ryhmin
It's me, Snoop D-O-double-G, and I'm climbin

[Chorus]

[Verse Three:]

I come creepin through the fog with my saggin Dukes
East Side, Long Beach, in a 7-8 Coupe DeBille
I'm rollin with the G Funk, bumpin in my shit and it don't quit
So drop it on the one motherf*cker put together that set
A nigga with a grip of that gangsta shit
With the Eastside hoes on my motherf*ckin dick
And the Compton niggaz all about to set trip
Swing it back, bring it back, just like this
And if you with my shit, then blaze up another spliff
And keep the motherf*ckin blunt in your pocket loc
Cuz Doggy Dogg is all about the zig zag smoke
See it's a West coast thing, where I'm from
And if you want some, get some, bad enough, take some
But watch the gun by my side
Because it represents me and the motherf*ckin East Side
So bow down to the bow wow, cause bow wow
yippie yo, you can't see my flow
My shit is dope, original, now you know
And can't no hood f*ck with Death Rizzow

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CALVIN BROADUS, DELMER DREW ARNAUD, DON BLACKMAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




Checkin

Oh shit is, is that Snoop over there? Oh shit
F*ck that nigga bitch. My name is Sam Sneed you betta recognize
Aiyyo, aiy, I'm sorry, I just love that nigga he is so fine
Man f*ck that nigga
His music is so f*ckin' dope
Hey look Sam man, I gotta go pee I'll be right back aight
Yeah aight
Yeah yeah I'm just slidin' you know
Get this Henny tap in my vein
Yo Snoop whassup Snoop?
Ay, hold up, yo
Hey, how you doin'?
What's happenin'?
Yo Snoop you know I just love your shit you are just so fine to me
Aiyyo bitch, bring your black ass back over
What the f*ck's wrong with you?
Yo what's happenin' is that your nigga or somethin'?
Look check this shit out that nigga he don't run me OK?
I'm talkin to you that's all
Yeah whassup nigga? What the f*ck's wrong with you?
Yo nigga what's happenin' fool?
You know the name of the game, your bitch chose me
Nigga we can handle this like some gentlemen
Or we can get into some gangsta shit
So whassup nigga?
Have it your motherf*ckin' way
Well whassup?
That's whassup nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Calvin Broadus, Curtis Mayfield
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Gz Up Hoes Down

Hahahaha
Yeah, what's happenin'?
This one is dedicated to my niggas
All my niggas out there, Gs up, hoes down, yeah

The ladies and gents, playas and pimps, listen
Snoop Doggy Dogg on the mic, pay attention
One, two, oh, what shall I do?
I'm slippin' on my khaki suit (which one?)
The blue one, gun by my side as I mob through the beach
On a mission and I'm fishin' for my DJ Warren G
Now I as I look for the bud sack
And see where my loves at on the lake where the doves at
Cognac is the drink that's drank by Gs
Saggin' like a motherf*cka, khakis to they knees
Bitch, please, you know how we do the undercover
I'm Snoop Doggy Dogg, not your average motherf*cker, see

Some of you don't know about the G thang, baby
It's the smooth gangsta shit that be drivin' you crazy
Now as you groove to the beat and you groove to the sound
I'ma hit you up with Tha Pound, Gs up, hoes down

Will all the real Gs, please stand up
And all be accounted for
And if you don't give a f*ck about a bitch
Then you're rollin' with the Row

Back with the one, two, three, and to the fo'
It's the S-N, O and to the O, P
(Why am I so fly?) I don't know, but
(Why am I so high?) It's the indo

I don't f*ck with the pocus, everybody knows this
F*ckin' with the chronic, 'cause the chronic give me dopeness
Now focus your eyes on these
Follow me as I take ya rollin' with the real OGs
East Side is the motherf*ckin' place, known as home
Doggy Dogg with my bone in my hand, twenty grand and

Some of you don't know about the G thang, baby
It's the smooth gangsta shit that be drivin' ya crazy
Now as ya groove to the G-Funk, and move to the sound
I hit you up with Tha Pound, Gs up, hoes down

Will all the real Gs, please stand up
And let all be accounted for
And if you don't give a f*ck about a bitch
Then you're rollin' with the Row

Hell yeah, you know what I'm sayin'?
This is strictly for the Gs, you know what I'm sayin'?
F*ck that bitch
Niggas always handcuffin' they hoes
When a nigga like me step in the place
I don't want that ho, I don't love that ho
I'm caught up with my greens
Collard greens, indo and the cash flow
You know what I'm sayin'?
Peace, Gs up, hoes down
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Calvin Broadus
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Pump Pump

Pump Pump, Pump Pump, Pump Pump
Pump Pump
Pump Pump

Let the motion of your body be the key, 'cause we
Be the motherf*cking G Funk family (pump, pump)
Now, I'll play the G in this deadly game
Snoop Dogg is the name, Dogg Pound's the gang (pump, pump)
If it ain't one thing it's a motherf*cking 'nother
Word to my granny and my daddy, and my mother (pump, pump)
Whether standing on the corner or bouncing in the six-deuce
When I was locked up, I couldn't wait to get loose (pump, pump)
'Cause back in the days, on the side where it's at
A nigga had to have a fat stack (pump, pump)
And I was a fool, don't make me have to grab my strap and go
Rat-tat-tat-tat, nigga slap to a motherf*cker face he fall (pump, pump)
Can't none of y'all niggas see the Doggy Dogg (pump, pump)
'Cause I'm one rudebwoy comin' with the wickedness
So shut the f*ck up, and listen while I'm kickin' this (pump, pump)

Blam blam, blam 'til dem fall
Listen to dem shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump, pump)
Blam blam, blam 'til dem fall (pump, pump)
Listen to dem shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump, pump, blah)

Di, di di di da di da, di di di di da
Di di di di da (pump, pump)
Di di di da, di, di di di di da
Di, di di di da, di, di di di da (pump, pump)

Now you can look to the sun, and spot the moon
And see Snoop Doggy Dogg step into the room (pump, pump)
With the G funk, he funk, she funk, we funk
Follow me, follow me, listen to the words that a nigga (pump, pump)
I come down with the wickedness
One rudebwoy comin' with the dopeness, blah (pump, pump)
Close your eyes 'cause you can't see me
I quit school 'cause of recess you f*ckin B.G. (pump, pump)
I'm shaking up the party, like Lodi Dodi
Is he the dopest? You better ask somebody (pump, pump)
When, then, send some Gin
And a pack of Zig-Zags, now let the games begin (pump, pump)
In nineteen-motherf*cking-ninety-three
I'm f*cking up every nigga known in the industry (pump, pump)
Check this out, it's a Dogg Pound thang
You know who I am, you know my motherf*cking name (pump, pump)
Who am I? (The S-N-Double-O-P)
Nickname (Silky Smell)
Last name (D-O-double-G, pump, pump)
The behavior and the flavor that I found
Makes me wanna hit that ass up with the Dogg Pound (pump, pump)

Blam blam, blam 'til dem fall
Listen to dem shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump, pump)
Blam blam, blam 'til dem fall (pump, pump)
Listen to dem shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump, pump)

Di da, di di di da di da
Di di di da, di di di da di da (pump, pump)
Di da di di di, da di da (blah)
Buda-ba, ba-ba-bu-bum (pump, pump)

Now just back up, don't act up, I pack up much heat
Any battle I'm in, I win, I can't be beat (pump, pump)
Don't sleep while I creep, peep out my technique
I forgot, I'm out of sight so you can't see the (pump, pump)
MC of the year, you hear and you fear
I got something for them niggas in the front and the rear (pump, pump)
I handle the sides, did a drive-by in the hoop-ride
I'm satisfied, now everything is really alright (pump, pump)
You know when I come, nigga, I come wicked
Don't need no permission, motherf*cker, I'ma kick it (pump, pump)
Niggas sweat my shit I wet 'em up with the biscuit
Lick 'em up shot, it don't stop 'til them all drop (pump, pump)
Make up your mind, go pop or slang rocks
Just stop, ridin' on the next niggas jock (pump, pump)
I'm strapped with my Glock on your block
And ready to let loose on the first imitator that I spot (pump, pump)

Blam blam, blam 'til dem fall
Listen to the sounds of my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump, pump)
Blam blam, blam 'til dem fall
Listen to the sounds of my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump, pump)

Blam blam, blam 'til dem fall
Listen to the sounds of my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump, pump)
Blam blam, blam 'til dem fall
Listen to the sounds of my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump, pump)

Di da, di di di da di da
Di di di da, di di di di di da da (pump, pump)
Da di di da, da da da di di da da
La-di di da, la di di yadi da (pump, pump)
Da di di da, la di di da di da da
Di di di da, di di di da di da da (pump, pump)
Di di di da, di di di da di da da
Buda-ba, calm down Snoop Dogg (pump, pump)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Young, Calvin Broadus, Lamar Edward
Copyright: Lyrics © BUTTER JINX MUSIC, INC. , Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Back to: Snoop Dogg


Doggystyle is the debut studio album by American rapper Snoop Doggy Dogg. It was released on November 23, 1993, by Death Row and Interscope Records. The album was recorded and produced following Snoop Doggy Dogg's appearances on Dr. Dre's debut solo album The Chronic (1992), to which Snoop contributed significantly. The West Coast style in hip-hop that he developed from Dre's first album continued on Doggystyle. Critics have praised Snoop Dogg for the lyrical "realism" that he delivers on the album and for his distinctive vocal flow.

Despite some mixed criticism of the album initially upon its release, Doggystyle earned recognition from many music critics as one of the most significant albums of the 1990s, as well as one of the most important hip-hop albums ever released.[citation needed] Much like The Chronic, the distinctive sounds of Doggystyle helped introduce the hip-hop subgenre of G-funk to a mainstream audience, bringing forward West Coast hip-hop as a dominant force in the early-mid 1990s.

Doggystyle debuted at number one on the Billboard 200, selling 806,858 copies in its first week alone in the United States, which was the record for a debuting artist and the fastest-selling hip-hop album ever at the time. Doggystyle was included on The Source magazine's list of the 100 Best Rap Albums, as well as Rolling Stone magazine's list of Essential Recordings of the '90s.[citation needed] About.com placed the album in No. 17 of the greatest hip hop/rap albums of all time.

The album was certified 4× Platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA). By November 2015, the album had sold 7 million copies in the United States, and over 11 million copies worldwide.
Genre(s): West Coast hip hop, gangsta rap, G-funk
Producer(s): Dr. Dre
Length: 54:44
Released: November 23rd, 1993
Year: 1993

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