My nigga Daz, the funkiest nigga to make beats Nobody see's him, East to West coast (No disrespect) Say what? (Say What, Say What?) Motherfucker too much, too much, too much (I heard somebody bit our shit cuz!) Where we from?
[Daz] I heard of a lot of dope ass rappers and I'm down with 'em In deed we all smoke weed and clowned with 'em Hung around with 'em, one man, with my gun in hand There's only one land, niggas down with me I can count on one hand (Dogg Pound) The carma get dumb-a, the double barrel pump-a heat bump-a And I been rocking mic's since funky drum-a These adventures reak havoc, Speak lavish lifesyle but crack your clavicle for the cabbage Ryhme savage, introduction to death Muder MC's till ain't shit left In a sector, why must MC's flip Like gymnastics, just to get they ho ass whiped Claiming they classic, but you don't set no classic examples With your fucked up beats, and your fucked up samples Ya last verbal war, you won't survive no more I turned the channel, cuz nigga you ain't live no more I use to follow, but now you's a legend like sleepy hollow I shoot to kill on horse, peel your cap, swollow There's no tommorrow, nigga, it all ends I been rocking a mic nigga since hip-hop began I'm the man, now what is this that I'm told to be red on the spot Dissed by a nigga I admire (sucka) [ Find more Lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.org/N7ds ] Oh shit, hell no this can't be Who's this on the radio dissing me D-O- double G, P-O-U-N-D, shit scorcher Doing a video for a song that got blew outta porportion I found he's the deadliest force in the world Where it's all about glamour, fame, and fortune As we blast and creep, so fuck you Your homeboys and any fools trying to compete We the elite, Dat Nigga Daz is back and he's blasting And anytime we meet face to face we mashing (ha-ha)
[Kurupt] So gimmie, the heat to the motherfucking Jimmies Hit slimmies, like 3's and I be's penny Raw, like fifteen separate sawed-offs To you chest, leathal techs, and pissed to get complex If I had a million dollars, then I'd be rich If your ho was on deck then I'd fuck yo bitch It's Gotti in the cut with the Don, Coleone And Dillinger, with the hollow tip chromes (Yeah) Catch you in traffic, leave you all flabbergasted Stalking you all, all walking caskets Hit the spot where the smoke is sold Low and behold, the tightest composition composed Can you catch it, I threw my thoughts like a quarterback So when they in the realm wit I mangle, murder, and slaughter at React, actions speak louder than words But ain't nothing more potent than vision I seen out in through the visions, erupting I'm spontaneous rapping, busting your melon Then escape a lyrical felon Accelling in and out like, as if I'm smoking the bomb (boom) And hit 3's as my D's shine And keep it gangsta
[Chorus]
Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangstas Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound Gangsta Gangsta Dogg Pound Gangstas ba-by, Dogg Pound GangstasTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
