Discover the themes, story, and feeling behind this song.
Hah yeah, hell yeah, hah, know what I'm sayin'? | Yeah | Mista Busta, where the fuck you at?
Hah yeah, hell yeah, hah, know what I'm sayin'? Yeah Mista Busta, where the fuck you at? Can't scrap a lick, so I know you got your gat Your dick on hard from fuckin' your road dogs The hoods you threw up with, niggas you grew up with Don't even respect your ass That's why it's time for the doctor to check your ass, nigga Used to be my homie, used to be my ace Now I wanna slap the taste out your mouth Make you bow down to the Row Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little hoe Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide Let me ride, just another homicide Yeah, it's me so I'ma talk on Stomping on the easiest streets that you can walk on So strap on your Compton hat, your locs And watch your back 'cause you might get smoked, loc And pass the bud, and stay low-key B.G. 'cause you lost all your homie's love Now call it what you want to You fucked with me, now it's a must that I fuck with you (You better raise up) Yeah, that's the fuck I'm talkin' about We have your motherfuckin' record company surrounded Put down the candy and let the little boy go You know what I'm sayin'? Punk motherfucker (We want Eazy! We want Eazy!) Bow wow wow, yippy yo yippy yay Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house Bow wow wow, yippy yo yippy yay Death Row's in the motherfuckin' house Bow wow wow, yippy yo yippy yay The sounds of a dog brings me to another day Play with my bone, would ya Timmy? It seems like you're good for makin' jokes about your jimmy Well, here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like I heard she was the 'Frisco dyke But fuck your mama, I'm talkin' about you and me Toe to toe, Tim M-U-T Your bark was loud, but your bite wasn't vicious And them rhymes you were kickin' were quite bootylicious You get with Doggy Dogg? "Oh, is he crazy?" With ya mama and your daddy hollerin' "Baby!" So what that let you know That if you fuck with Dre, nigga, you're fuckin' with Death Row And I ain't even swangin' them thangs I'm hollerin' 1-8-7 with my dick in yo' mouth, biatch! Yeah, nigga, Compton and Long Beach together on this motherfucker So you wanna pop that shit Get yo' motherfuckin' cranium cracked, nigga, step on up Now, we ain't no motherfuckin' joke so remember the name Mighty, mighty D-R, yeah, motherfucker (the shit done hit the fan) Now understand this, my nigga Dre can't be touched Luke's bendin' over, so Luke's gettin' fucked, buster Must've thought I was sleazy Or thought I was a mark 'cause I used to hang with Eazy Animosity made you speak what you spoke (yeah) Ayo, Dre (what up?) Chip this nigga off, loc If it ain't another hoe that I gots to fuck with Gap teeth in your mouth so my dick's gots to fit With my nuts on your tonsils While you're on stage rappin' at your wack-ass concert And I'ma snatch your ass from the backside And show you how Death Row pull off that who-ride Now you might not understand me 'Cause I'ma rob you in Compton and blast you in Miami Then we gon' creep to South Central On a street knowledge mission, as I steps in the temple Spot him, got him, as I pulls out my strap Got my chrome to the side of his White Sox hat You tryna check my homie, you best check yourself 'Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, motherfucker (Yeah, nigga) So I don't want no dilapidated, two-faced, pigeon-toed, bow-legged Cross-eyed son of a gun fuckin' with me (fuckin' with me) Yeah, nine-deuce, Dr. Dre Droppin' Chronic once again It don't stop Punishing punk motherfuckers real quick like Compton style, nigga Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house, yeah Long Beach's in the motherfuckin' house, yeah, yeah Straight up (Death Row is in the house) Really, though Breakin' all you suckers off somethin' real proper like You know what I'm sayin'? All them sucker ass niggas can eat a fat dick Yeah, Eazy-E, Eazy-E, Eazy-E can eat a big fat dick Tim Dog can eat a big fat dick Luke can eat a fat dick Yeah (yeah, yeah, yeah)
No similar tracks yet.
