| Yeah, give it up
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas, Kurupt and Daz
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| We all about nothin' but bitches, money and cash
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| You talk shit we just might blast
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| (Dat Nigga Daz back in yo' ass once more
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| Fuckin' it up like you know we do)
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| Always talkin' shit, well here we have —
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| Another situation, where we gotta mash
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| These niggas know nigga what we hatch
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| If I did it, then I done it, then a battle just started
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| And I’m gunnin', for niggas, who ain’t down who I ride for
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| Dat Nigga Daz, Kurupt, Dogg Pound, Death Row
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| Here we go, Blood or Crip, it don’t matter
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| I blast and outcast those who separate me from my goals
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| Without a doubt, kill 'em and turn 'em out
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| Notice the way that I shake, rattle, and roll
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| And like your mamma cryin', enthusiastic as two nines
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| KABOOM! |
| We mash to the extreme as a team
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| Scope you out and cut you down like a guillotine
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| I hung a string of MC’s who thought foolishness
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| Schoolin' this whole rap game, we rulin' this
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| We doin' this, persuin' this major
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| Stackin' major paper, with my dogg street behavior
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| I caved ya chest in, bruised ya ribs, with a blow of skills
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| Like Tyson, knockin' your ass out like Bruno
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| You know I bring death towards your whole fuckin' camp (camp)
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| Get in your skin, kill anything that lives
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| Sure enough I never thought, that your ass could come rough
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| Call your bluff, comin' with skills to smash your stuff
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| You know it’s hardcore, you know it’s raw
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| You know it’s hardcore, I’ll break your jaw
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| Too many times with rhymes I combine and blow minds
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| With the ways I design (hey Daz) too many fuckin' times
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| The author of authentics (that's me)
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| When I was young I played games with skirt
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| Hide and go get it, 'til I was laced in a clinic (uh huh)
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| Learned quick, to always keep a leash and hat on my dick (slow down)
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| I know you’re trippin' off me and what play I threw
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| But I ain’t trippin' off you and what you say I do
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| It’s time for war, man, they all runnin' again
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| Empty clip, reload, start gunnin' again
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| I remember — «Kurupt, you’ll never get that far»
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| No matter who you are, I found you can shine like stars
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| I used patience, and the planet of my sight
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| To the corner of deuce-five where it’s lot like life
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| I’m put in a position where I thinks
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| And I’m 'bout to beat MC’s purple, blue, and pink
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| Take what’s yours (yours), break down your doors (doors)
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| Hardcore radical, rough and raw
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| When you come talkin' what you talk (talk)
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| It’s me, I’m 'bout stalk, and I rock it from L.A. to New York
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| On to the city of Phil', where all my niggas at keepin' it real
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| All we in sharin' here
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| To the South, to the East, to the North
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| Kurupt, grabbin' it about to rip it off
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| I rocks the West, so tell me who rocks the best
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| I rocks the spot without Glocks and homicidal shots
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| I leave the scene like a quake cause I leave 'em shakin'
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| They all shake tryin' to take the money that I make
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| You’ll never get past three rounds
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| Three rhymes, three MC’s in three towns
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| I came to put it down
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| And lay all three of these motherfuckers down on the ground, now
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| (You know, it’s me in your world, Daz)
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| It’s about the bitches, (nah, it’s about the cash)
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| Move quick, (move fast), the real again
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| (Leave a motherfucker stranded like Gilligan)
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| Kill and I kill again
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| I got money on my mind, (postin' at the Palms)
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| Sittin' in my room with a pad (writin' rhymes)
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| (Dimes on the nickels), nickels on the dimes
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| (To quarters), thousands, (to million dollar bonds) |