Fuck wit Dre Day (And Everybody's Celebratin') 歌词
| 歌曲 | Fuck wit Dre Day (And Everybody's Celebratin') |
| 歌手 | Dr. Dre |
| 专辑 | The Chronic [Re-Lit and From the Vault] |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Doctor Dre, Snoop Dogg ... | |
| Yeah, hell yeah, know what I'm sayin, yeah | |
| (Verse One: Dr. Dre) | |
| Mista Busta, where the ************* ya at? | |
| Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat | |
| Your ************* on hard, from ****** your road dogs | |
| The hood you threw up with, *************z you grew up with | |
| Don't even respect your ass | |
| That's why it's time for the doctor, to check your ass, ************* | |
| Used to be my homey, used to be my ace | |
| Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth | |
| Make you bow down to the row | |
| ****** me, now I'm ****** you, little ho | |
| Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide | |
| Let me ride, just another homicide | |
| Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on | |
| Stompin on the 'Eazy'est 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 homey's love | |
| Now call it what you want to | |
| You ****** wit me, now it's a must that I ************* wit you | |
| (Break One: Dre) | |
| Yeah, that's what the ************* I'm talkin about | |
| We have your mother****** record company surrounded | |
| Put down the candy and let the little boy go | |
| You knowhatI'msayin, punk mother****** | |
| (**We want Eazy, we want Eazy**) | |
| (Verse Two: Snoop Doggy Dogg) | |
| Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay | |
| Doggy Dogg's in the mother****** house | |
| Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay | |
| Death Row's in the mother****** 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 | |
| But here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like | |
| I heard she was the 'Frisco dyke | |
| But ************* 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 hollin' Bay-Bee | |
| So won't they let you know | |
| That if you ************* with Dre ************* you're ****** wit Death Row | |
| And I ain't even slangin them thangs | |
| I'm hollin' one-eight-seven with my ************* in yo mouth, beotch | |
| (Break Two) | |
| Yeah *************, Compton and Long Beach together on this mother****** | |
| So you wanna pop that *************t get yo mother****** cranium cracked ************* | |
| Step on up. Now, we ain't no mother****** joke so remember the name | |
| Mighty, mighty D-R. Yeahhh, MOTHER******! | |
| (Verse Three: Dre and Snoop) | |
| Now understand this my ************* Dre can't be touched | |
| Luke's bendin over, so Luke's gettin ******, busta | |
| Musta, thought I was sleazy | |
| Or though I was a mark cause I used to hang with Eazy | |
| Animosity, made ya speak but ya spoke | |
| Ay yo Dre, whattup, check this ************* off loc | |
| If it ain't another ho that I gots ta ************* with | |
| Gap teeth in ya mouth so my *************'s gots to fit | |
| With my nuts on ya tonsils | |
| While ya onstage rappin at your wack-ass concerts | |
| And I'ma snatch your ass from the backside | |
| To show you how Death Row pull off that whoride | |
| 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 tryin to check my homey, you better check yo self | |
| Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, MOTHER****** | |
| (Outro) | |
| Yeah, nine-deuce | |
| Dr. Dre, dropin chronic once again | |
| It don't stop, Puni*************ng punk mother******s real quick like | |
| Doggy Dogg in the mother****** house | |
| Long Beach in the mother****** house | |
| Compton style *************, straight up, really doe | |
| Breakin all you suckaz off somethin real proper like | |
| YouknowhatI'msayin? | |
| All these sucka ass *************z can eat a fat ************* | |
| Yeah, Eazy-E Eazy-E Eazy-E can eat a big fat ************* | |
| Tim Dog can eat a big fat ************* | |
| Luke, can eat a fat ************* | |
| Yeah |
| zuo ci : Doctor Dre, Snoop Dogg ... | |
| Yeah, hell yeah, know what I' m sayin, yeah | |
| Verse One: Dr. Dre | |
| Mista Busta, where the ya at? | |
| Can' t scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat | |
| Your on hard, from your road dogs | |
| The hood you threw up with, z you grew up with | |
| Don' t even respect your ass | |
| That' s why it' s time for the doctor, to check your ass, | |
| Used to be my homey, used to be my ace | |
| Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth | |
| Make you bow down to the row | |
| me, now I' m you, little ho | |
| Oh, don' t think I forgot, let you slide | |
| Let me ride, just another homicide | |
| Yeah it' s me so I' ma talk on | |
| Stompin on the ' Eazy' est 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 lowkey | |
| B. G. cause you lost all your homey' s love | |
| Now call it what you want to | |
| You wit me, now it' s a must that I wit you | |
| Break One: Dre | |
| Yeah, that' s what the I' m talkin about | |
| We have your mother record company surrounded | |
| Put down the candy and let the little boy go | |
| You knowhatI' msayin, punk mother | |
| We want Eazy, we want Eazy | |
| Verse Two: Snoop Doggy Dogg | |
| Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay | |
| Doggy Dogg' s in the mother house | |
| Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay | |
| Death Row' s in the mother 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 | |
| But here' s a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like | |
| I heard she was the ' Frisco dyke | |
| But your mama, I' m talkin about you and me | |
| Toe to toe, Tim MUT | |
| 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 hollin' BayBee | |
| So won' t they let you know | |
| That if you with Dre you' re wit Death Row | |
| And I ain' t even slangin them thangs | |
| I' m hollin' oneeightseven with my in yo mouth, beotch | |
| Break Two | |
| Yeah , Compton and Long Beach together on this mother | |
| So you wanna pop that t get yo mother cranium cracked | |
| Step on up. Now, we ain' t no mother joke so remember the name | |
| Mighty, mighty DR. Yeahhh, MOTHER! | |
| Verse Three: Dre and Snoop | |
| Now understand this my Dre can' t be touched | |
| Luke' s bendin over, so Luke' s gettin , busta | |
| Musta, thought I was sleazy | |
| Or though I was a mark cause I used to hang with Eazy | |
| Animosity, made ya speak but ya spoke | |
| Ay yo Dre, whattup, check this off loc | |
| If it ain' t another ho that I gots ta with | |
| Gap teeth in ya mouth so my ' s gots to fit | |
| With my nuts on ya tonsils | |
| While ya onstage rappin at your wackass concerts | |
| And I' ma snatch your ass from the backside | |
| To show you how Death Row pull off that whoride | |
| 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 tryin to check my homey, you better check yo self | |
| Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, MOTHER | |
| Outro | |
| Yeah, ninedeuce | |
| Dr. Dre, dropin chronic once again | |
| It don' t stop, Puni ng punk mother s real quick like | |
| Doggy Dogg in the mother house | |
| Long Beach in the mother house | |
| Compton style , straight up, really doe | |
| Breakin all you suckaz off somethin real proper like | |
| YouknowhatI' msayin? | |
| All these sucka ass z can eat a fat | |
| Yeah, EazyE EazyE EazyE can eat a big fat | |
| Tim Dog can eat a big fat | |
| Luke, can eat a fat | |
| Yeah |
| zuò cí : Doctor Dre, Snoop Dogg ... | |
| Yeah, hell yeah, know what I' m sayin, yeah | |
| Verse One: Dr. Dre | |
| Mista Busta, where the ya at? | |
| Can' t scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat | |
| Your on hard, from your road dogs | |
| The hood you threw up with, z you grew up with | |
| Don' t even respect your ass | |
| That' s why it' s time for the doctor, to check your ass, | |
| Used to be my homey, used to be my ace | |
| Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth | |
| Make you bow down to the row | |
| me, now I' m you, little ho | |
| Oh, don' t think I forgot, let you slide | |
| Let me ride, just another homicide | |
| Yeah it' s me so I' ma talk on | |
| Stompin on the ' Eazy' est 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 lowkey | |
| B. G. cause you lost all your homey' s love | |
| Now call it what you want to | |
| You wit me, now it' s a must that I wit you | |
| Break One: Dre | |
| Yeah, that' s what the I' m talkin about | |
| We have your mother record company surrounded | |
| Put down the candy and let the little boy go | |
| You knowhatI' msayin, punk mother | |
| We want Eazy, we want Eazy | |
| Verse Two: Snoop Doggy Dogg | |
| Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay | |
| Doggy Dogg' s in the mother house | |
| Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay | |
| Death Row' s in the mother 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 | |
| But here' s a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like | |
| I heard she was the ' Frisco dyke | |
| But your mama, I' m talkin about you and me | |
| Toe to toe, Tim MUT | |
| 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 hollin' BayBee | |
| So won' t they let you know | |
| That if you with Dre you' re wit Death Row | |
| And I ain' t even slangin them thangs | |
| I' m hollin' oneeightseven with my in yo mouth, beotch | |
| Break Two | |
| Yeah , Compton and Long Beach together on this mother | |
| So you wanna pop that t get yo mother cranium cracked | |
| Step on up. Now, we ain' t no mother joke so remember the name | |
| Mighty, mighty DR. Yeahhh, MOTHER! | |
| Verse Three: Dre and Snoop | |
| Now understand this my Dre can' t be touched | |
| Luke' s bendin over, so Luke' s gettin , busta | |
| Musta, thought I was sleazy | |
| Or though I was a mark cause I used to hang with Eazy | |
| Animosity, made ya speak but ya spoke | |
| Ay yo Dre, whattup, check this off loc | |
| If it ain' t another ho that I gots ta with | |
| Gap teeth in ya mouth so my ' s gots to fit | |
| With my nuts on ya tonsils | |
| While ya onstage rappin at your wackass concerts | |
| And I' ma snatch your ass from the backside | |
| To show you how Death Row pull off that whoride | |
| 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 tryin to check my homey, you better check yo self | |
| Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, MOTHER | |
| Outro | |
| Yeah, ninedeuce | |
| Dr. Dre, dropin chronic once again | |
| It don' t stop, Puni ng punk mother s real quick like | |
| Doggy Dogg in the mother house | |
| Long Beach in the mother house | |
| Compton style , straight up, really doe | |
| Breakin all you suckaz off somethin real proper like | |
| YouknowhatI' msayin? | |
| All these sucka ass z can eat a fat | |
| Yeah, EazyE EazyE EazyE can eat a big fat | |
| Tim Dog can eat a big fat | |
| Luke, can eat a fat | |
| Yeah |
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