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So crack a bottle, let your body waddle |
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Don't act like a snobby model |
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You just hit the lotto |
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Uh oh uh oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe |
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Got one riding shotgun and no not one of them got gloves |
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Now where's the rubbers? Whose got the rubbers? |
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I noticed there's so many of them and there's really not that many of us |
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And ladies love us and my posse's kicking up dust |
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It's on till the break of dawn and we're starting this party from dusk |
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Ladies and gentlemen, Dr Dre |
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They see that low rider go by there, like 'Oh my!' |
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You ain't got to tell me why you're sick cuz I know why |
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I dip through in that six trey like sick 'em Dre |
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I'm an itch that they can't scratch, they're sick of me |
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But hey, what else can I say? I love LA |
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Cuz over and above all, it's just another day |
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And this one begins where the last one ends |
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Pick up where we left off and get smashed again |
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I'll be damned, just fucked around and crashed my Benz |
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Driving around with a smashed front end |
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Let's cash that one in |
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Grab another one from out the stable |
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The Monte Carlo, El Camino or the El Derado |
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The hell if I know |
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Do I want leather seats or vinyl |
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Decisions, decisions garage looks like precision collision |
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Or maico beats quake like Waco |
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Just keep the bass low speakers away from your face though |
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Back when Andre, the giant, mister elephant tusk |
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Picture us, you'll just be another one bit the dust |
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Just one of my mother's son who got thrown under the bus |
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Kiss my butt lick my wonder cheese from under my nuts |
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They disgust, me to see the game the way that it looks |
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It's a must, I redeem my name n haters get murked |
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Bitches lust man they love me when I lay in the cut |
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Missed the cut the lady give a raidy some paper cut |
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Now picture us It's ridiculous you curse at the thought |
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Cuz when I spit the verse the shit gets worse and worse cause your soft |
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If I could fit the words as picture perfect, works every time |
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Every verse, every line, as simple as nursery rhymes |
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It's elementary the elephants have entered the room |
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I venture to say with the same repetition is true |
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Not to mention back with a vengeance, so here's the signal |
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Of the bat symbol The platinum dude is back on you hoes |
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It's sorta like pourin' Draino down a live volcano |
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You never know what'll happen next, it may blow |
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Same thing happens to the beats when Dre blows |
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I talk shit, but my dick's long as my payroll |
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I get ass like a ball player, but I'm a boss player |
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Pimpin' hoes from here to Australia |
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Till I get heart failure |
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Look at ya half of ya'll, all scared |
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Other half, hands up in the air, like 'Awww yeah' |
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This is our year, this is what you call sheer talent, |
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But I think at this point it's just obvious |
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Fierce, they say my music's good for all queers |
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Cuz I make your ear ring, get it?, piercin' all ears |
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Call us the mafia We got the fucking mob here |
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Gimme the hate and I'll feed off of ya's all year |
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Shit, I'm just doing my job here |
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You don't want no problem, do ya? |
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Fuck it, I'll even crack a bottle for ya |
