Dr. Dre - The Chronic Lyrics
The Chronic (Intro)
[Intro: Dr. Dre]
This is dedicated to the niggaz that was down from day one
[Cell Block opened]
Welcome to Death Row
... like we always do about this time
[Snoop Doggy Dogg:]
Ha haa haaa haaa, yeah, nine deuce
Death Row Records creepin while you sleepin'
Niggaz with attitudes, no loc', niggaz on a motherf*ckin mission
What up niggaz and niggettes
That crazy-Ass-niggaz is back in the motherf*ckin hizzouse
Yeah, and notorious Compton G
D-R-E on a solo tip, f*ck them other fools
Whattup Ren
Yeah, droppin Chronic flakes on your ass bitch
West Coast flavor, niggaz who talked shit
Get dealt with real quick
So if you wanna take a trip to the Row
Let a nigga like Snoop Doggy Dogg know
Protected by niggaz with big dicks, AK's and 187 skills
So if it's must you test us
We can handle it the streets nigga, f*ck makin records
Yeah, G's up, hoes down
If that bitch can't swim, she bound to drizzown
Peace to my nigga Drizzae, another platinum hit nigga
Peace to The D.O.C, still makin it funky enough
And Death Row Records is in full motherf*ckin effizzect
Aww yeah, P.S.
F*ck Mr. Roarke and Tattoo, A.K.A. Jerry and Eazy
Sincerely yours, deeez motherf*ckin nuuutz
I don't love Eazy
I don't love Jerry
I don't love Ruthless Records
Frankly, I don't love nothin they got to do with
But... but... but you know what I what you do for me
Jerry and Eazy, check this shit right here
I want y'all to put this bizzalls, in your jizzaws
And walk them like a strizzaw, tell me what you sizzaw
Yeah, you know what, you know what
F*ck all y'all, f*ck y'all, really though
It's Death Row nigga
You better ask somebody, you really better ask somebody
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't know them no more
[Outro: Dr. Dre]
Yeah nigga, you'se a penguin lookin motherf*cker
Writer: Colin Fitzroy Wolfe, Andre Romell Young, Cordozar Calvin Broadus
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Word Collections Publishing
F*ck Wit Dre Day (And Everybody's Celebratin')
[Intro: Dr. Dre]
This is dedicated to the niggaz that was down from day one
[Cell Block opened]
Welcome to Death Row
... like we always do about this time
[Snoop Doggy Dogg:]
Ha haa haaa haaa, yeah, nine deuce
Death Row Records creepin while you sleepin'
Niggaz with attitudes, no loc', niggaz on a motherf*ckin mission
What up niggaz and niggettes
That crazy-Ass-niggaz is back in the motherf*ckin hizzouse
Yeah, and notorious Compton G
D-R-E on a solo tip, f*ck them other fools
Whattup Ren
Yeah, droppin Chronic flakes on your ass bitch
West Coast flavor, niggaz who talked shit
Get dealt with real quick
So if you wanna take a trip to the Row
Let a nigga like Snoop Doggy Dogg know
Protected by niggaz with big dicks, AK's and 187 skills
So if it's must you test us
We can handle it the streets nigga, f*ck makin records
Yeah, G's up, hoes down
If that bitch can't swim, she bound to drizzown
Peace to my nigga Drizzae, another platinum hit nigga
Peace to The D.O.C, still makin it funky enough
And Death Row Records is in full motherf*ckin effizzect
Aww yeah, P.S.
F*ck Mr. Roarke and Tattoo, A.K.A. Jerry and Eazy
Sincerely yours, deeez motherf*ckin nuuutz
I don't love Eazy
I don't love Jerry
I don't love Ruthless Records
Frankly, I don't love nothin they got to do with
But... but... but you know what I what you do for me
Jerry and Eazy, check this shit right here
I want y'all to put this bizzalls, in your jizzaws
And walk them like a strizzaw, tell me what you sizzaw
Yeah, you know what, you know what
F*ck all y'all, f*ck y'all, really though
It's Death Row nigga
You better ask somebody, you really better ask somebody
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't know them no more
[Outro: Dr. Dre]
Yeah nigga, you'se a penguin lookin motherf*cker
Writer: Andre Romell Young, Cordazar Calvin Jr. Broadus, David Lee Spradley, Garry Marshall Shider, George Jr. Clinton
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Word Collections Publishing
Let Me Ride
[Verse One:]
Creepin' down the back street on Deez
I got my glock cocked cuz niggaz want these
Now soon as I said it, seems I got sweated
By some nigga with a tech 9 tryin' to take mine
ya wanna make noise, make noise
I make a phone call my niggaz comin' like the Gotti boys
bodies bein' found on Greenleaf
with their f*ckin heads cut off, motherf*cker i'm Dre
so listen to the play-by-play, day-by-day
rollin' in my '4 with 16 switches
And got sounds for the bitches, clockin' all the riches
Got the hollow points for the snitches
So would you just walk on by, cuz I'm too hard to lift
and no this ain't Aerosmith
It's the motherf*ckin D-R-E, from the CPT
on a ryhmin' spree, a straight G
Hop back as i pop my top ya trip
I let the hollow points commence to POP POP POP
yeah, cuz if it don't stop
I have to put my shit in reverse go back and take anothers stop
Cause I'm (Rollin in my six-fo')
with all the niggaz sayin
[Chorus:]
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
hell yeah
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
with all the niggaz sayin
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
Hell yeah
Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride
[Verse Two:]
just another motherf*ckin day for Dre so I begin like this
No medallions, dreadlocks, or black fists it's just
that gangster glare, with gangster raps
that gangster shit, that makes the gang of snaps, uhh
word to the motherf*ckin streets
and word to these hyped ass lyrics and dope beats, that I
hit ya with that I, get ya with
as I groove in my four on deez, hittin the switches
bitches relax while I get my proper swerve on
bumpin like a motherf*cker ready to get my serve on
but before I hit the dope spot
I gotta get the chronic, the Reme Martin and my soda pop
Now I'm smellin like indo-nesia
bus stop full of fly bitches and skeezers
on my dick, cause my four on hit
pancake front and back, side to side and all that shit
So when I crawl I comes correct
Now, if your bitch in my shit, it's your bitch you check nigga
Now let the Chevrolet slide
As I dip a nigga trip to the south side, yeah
(Rollin in my six-fo') with all the bitches sayin
[Chorus]
[Verse Three:]
Check this out
The sun went down when I hit Slausson
on my way to the strip, now I'm just flossin
Checkin my rearview, cause niggaz they will do
jack moves, black fools cause I smack fools
Try to set me up for a two-eleven
F*ck around and get caught up in a one-eight-seven
but I don't represent no gangbang
Some niggaz like lynchin but I just watch them hang
so on, and so-on, why don't you let me roll on
I remember back in the dayz when I used to have to get my stroll on
Didn't nobody wanna speak; now everybody
peepin out they windows when they hear me beatin up the streets
Is it Dre? Is it Dre?
That's what they say, every single motherf*ckin day, yo
But I ain't trippin I'm just kickin it
While my deez keep spinnin and these hoes keep grinnin I'll be
(Rollin in my six-fo') With everybody sayin
[Chorus: to end]
Writer: CALVIN BROADUS, ERIC COLLINS, GEORGE CLINTON, BERNIE WORRELL, WILLIAM EARL COLLINS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
The Day The Niggaz Took Over
[Intro: guy talking]
I'ma say this and I'ma gettin mine. If you ain't down for the Africans
here in the United States, period point blank. If you ain't down for the
ones that suffer in South Africa from apartheid and shit. Devil you need to
step your punk ass to the side and let us brothers and us Africans step in
and start puttin some funk in that ass
[Hook:]
Break em off sometin [8x]
[Chorus: Snoop Doggy Dogg]
I got my finger on the trigger so niggaz wonder why
But livin in the city it's do-or-die
[repeat]
[Verse One: Dat Nigga Daz]
They wonder where me bailin and don't really understand
The reason why they take me life and me ???? hand
Me not out for peace and me not Rodney King
Me gun goes click, me gun goes bang
Them riot in Compton and them riot in Long Beach
Them rion in they Lakers and don't really wanna see
niggaz start to loot and police start to shoot
Lock it down at seven o'clock, then again it's like Beirut
Me don't show no love cuz it's us against them
Them never ever love me cuz it's sport to break de,
and kill at my own risk if I may
Delay to spray with my AK and put it to rest
[Interlude: news report]
Yes we have. There have been riots, ahh, rioting, well I don't wanna say
rioting but there's been looting downtown, but right now Bree, what I want
to show you is, they have started fires down at the end of the street
[Bridge:]
[All] How many niggaz are ready to lose?
[Snoop] Yeah, so what you wanna do?
[Dre] What you wanna do?
[All] I said how many niggas are ready to lose
[RBX] Got myself an Uzi and my brother a 9
[Interlude: guy talking]
Nobody told us today, in otherwords,
You're still a slave. No matter how
much money you got, you still ain't shit
[Verse Two: Dr. Dre]
Sittin in my livin room calm and collected
Feelin mad, gotta get mine respected
cuz what I just heard broke me in half
and half the niggaz I know, plus the niggaz on the Row, is bailin
Laugh now but cry much later
Ya see when niggas get together they get mad cuz they can't fade us
Like my niggas from South Central, Los Angeles
They find that they couldn't handle us
Bloods, Crips on the same squad
with the Ese's thumpin, nigga it's time ta rob and mob
(And break the white man off somthin lovely, biddy-bye-bye
I don't love dem so they can't love me)
Yo straight puttin down gettin my scoot on
Let's jump in off in Compton so I gots ta get my loot on
and come up on me some furniture or sometin
Got a VCR
in the back of my car
that I ganked from the Slauson Swap Meet
And motherf*ckers better not try to stop me
Cuz they will see that I can't be stopped
Cuz I'ma cock my Glock and pop til they all drop
[Interlude: news report]
There has been videotape and you can see of the, aah, some of the crowd
throwin things at the officers
And swingin at them as well. Like there was a young woman there. You see
she took a swing at an officer with some object in her hand
[Bridge:]
[All] How many niggaz are ready to lose?
[Snoop] Yeah, so what you wanna do?
[Dre] What you wanna do?
[All] I said how many niggas are ready to lose
[RBX] Got myself an Uzi and my brother a 9
[Chorus: RBX]
I got my finger on the trigger so niggaz wonder why
But livin in the city it's do-or-die
[repeat]
[Verse Three: RBX]
One-time trigger happy, no nigga love
187 time, time to grab the glove
Can't get prints so a 9 I throw away
or get prints so my Uzi witta spray
POP POP POP another motherf*cker drop
And I get relived like *?Bop Bop says?*
smash, I crashed his head like a window
I ain't no dead do', I'm high off the indo
Creepin with the quickness to the cut
Bust one to his head while he munches on that donut
And cracker so now he best to back up
I guess I gots ta pack up, fillin the clip up, I zip up-
town, the motherf*ckin cops are all around
Helicopters flyin
These motherf*ckers tryin
to catch me and stretch me on Death Row
but hell no's the poor black refuse to go
[Interlude: news report]
This is now coverin a very, very wide area of Los Angeles where these
fires have been, aah, ignited. I mean, from here to the, aah, to the south
end of South Central is a long way
[Hook:]
Break em off sometin [8x]
[Verse Four: Dat Nigga Daz]
The outcome of this is destruction so the more fall
Niggaz don't give a f*ck so tem bust and before
niggaz backin up three black shows
No justice so they copied ya right
and here I am again, me, turn the other cheek, me
Be too many wigs got me 9 to my tights
so me bust, flick cuz he don't give a f*ck
and me don't give a f*ckin of my problems
In with their F*CK F*CK
[Outro: Snoop Doogy Dogg]
Blak blam, blam to dem fall
Listen to the shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg, biddy-bye
Dr Dre him bust gun shots
Diggity Daz and RBX them bust gun shots
Come again!
Writer: ANDRE YOUNG, ANTOINETTE COLANDREO, CALVIN CORDAZOR BROADUS, DELMAR ARNAUD, ERIC COLLINS, LAWRENCE PARKER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
Deeez Nuuuts
Just let me call this old bitch, see what this bitch doin'
Call this bitch, raggedy-ass, shit, man
Hello?
What's up?
Nothin', what you doin'?
Nothin' just kickin' it
Are y'all done?
Nah, what you gon' do today?
Um, pick up my clothes from the cleaners, I needa go get my nails done
Serious?
Why? What's up?
Ayy, did, did, did what's-your-name them get at you yesterday?
Who?
Deez nuts
Aw, shut up, nigga
But I wanna ask you one question
If I had some nuts hangin' on the wall
What do I have, honey?
I said, "Darlin' you got some walnuts"
She said, "Well, daddy, if I had some nuts on my chest would those be chestnuts?
I said, "Hell yeah"
She said, "Well, daddy, if I had nuts under my chin would those be chinnuts?"
I said, "Hell no, bitch, you'd have a dick in your mouth"
Chiggidy-check, microphone check one
Chiggidy-check, microphone check two
Chiggidy-check, microphone check three
Check game from the notorious Compton G
Back with some shit that gots to bump
As you pull up in the park you pops the trunk
Just to floss it like a motherf*cker, clownin' and shit
Got your Danas on your hooptie and your fly ass bitch
Throw off, go off, show off, I take that ho
If she proper I'ma pop her, the ho hopper
It's back on the track
With big money, big nuts and a big fat chronic sack
So Daz, step up on the ass
And give these motherf*ckers a blast from the past
Diggidy Daz out of the cut with some shit that I wrote
With my nigga D-R-E, so you know I must be dope
But uh, rat-tat-tat-tat that ass
Startin' static with Dre, make way for the AK
That I bring as I slang like cavi
Not from Kris Kross but they call me Mac Daddy
Had he not known about the city I'm from
Long Beach, Tic Tac, grab your gat, watch your back
Here I come, stompin' in my khaki suit
B.G from the hood, kinfolk Eastwood
Goddamn, I ripped up, flipped up, and skipped up
On top of things as they swing towards my ding-a-ling
But did you raise up off his nuts?
'Cause Dr. Drizzay's about to rizzip shit up
Chiggidy-check, microphone check one
Chiggidy-check, microphone check two
Chiggidy-check, microphone check three
You tuned to the sounds of the D-R-E
Now check me out, it's back to the old school
Where the niggas get their scrap on, don't nobody cap on
Slap on some D-R-E
Or some funky ass shit by the D-O double-G-Y D-O double-G
Real G's who drop ki's, protect these N-U-T's, so nigga, please
Peep out my manuscript
You'll see that it's a must, I drop gangsta shit (biatch)
So recognize game from the gangsta
Things will remain the same until I change 'em
It's real easy to see
So you can check sounds from Nate D-O-double G
I can't be faded
I'm a nigga from the motherf*ckin' street
I can't be faded
I'm a nigga from the motherf*ckin' street
I can't be faded
I'm a nigga from the motherf*ckin' street
I can't be faded
I'm a nigga from the motherf*ckin' street
I heard you wanna f*ck with Dre
You picked the wrong motherf*ckin' day
Here we go, toe to toe, flow for flow
Let me know if you think you can fade Death Row
I heard you wanna f*ck with Dre
You picked the wrong motherf*ckin' day
Here we go, toe to toe, flow for flow
Let me know if you think you can fade Death Row
I can't be faded
I'm a nigga from the motherf*ckin' street
I can't be faded
I'm a nigga from the motherf*ckin' street
Writer: Andre Romell Young, Calvin Cordozar Broadus
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Bitches Aint Shit
[Intro: Snoop Doggy Dogg]
Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks! [beat starts]
[Chorus: Snoop Doggy Dogg]
Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks!
Lick on deez nutz and suck the dick!
Get's the f*ck out after you're - dooone!
And I hops in my ride to make a quick ruuun! [x2]
[Verse 1: (Snoop Doggy Dogg)]
[Dr. Dre:]
I used to know a bitch named Eric Wright.
We used to roll around and f*ck the hoes at night.
Tight than a mutharf*cka with the gangsta beats
And we was ballin' on the muthaf*ckin' Compton streets!
Peep! - The shit got deep and it was on,
Number 1 song after number 1 song.
Long as my muthaf*ckin' pockets was fat,
I didn't give a f*ck where the bitch was at.
But she was hangin' with a white bitch, doin' the shit she do
Suckin' on his dick just to get a buck or 2!
And the few ends she got - didn't mean nothin',
Now she's suin'. - Cause the shit she be doin' ain't shit!
Bitch can't hang with the streets, she found herself short
So now she's takin' me to court.
It's real conversation for your ass,
So recognize and pass to Daz!
[Dat Nigga Daz:]
Now as I'm rollin' with my nigga Dre and Eastwood
F*ckin' hoes, clockin' dough up to no good.
We flip-flop and serve hoes like flap jacks,
(But we don't love them hooes!) Bitch, and it's like that!
This is what you look for in a ho who got cash flow,
Ya run up in them hoes and grab the cash and get your dash on!
While you're chillin' with your homies and shit
And how my niggaz kick the anthem like thiiiis. (BEEEYYAAACHHH!)
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Kurupt (Snoop Doggy Dogg)]
To the store, to get me a 4-0
Snoop Doggy Dogg paged, that must mean more hoes.
So I head down the street to Long Beach
Just so I could meet - a freak - to lick me from my head to my feet.
And I'm here, now I'm ready to be done up
Nothin' but homies around so I puts my gun up!
Bitches on my nuts like - clothes, hahh!
But I'm from the pound and we don't love them hoes.
How could you trust a hoe? (Why, why, why?) - Cause a hoe's a trick!
We don't love them tricks! (Why, why, why?) - Cause a trick's a bitch!
And my dick's - constantly in her mouth,
And turnin' them trick ass hoes the f*ck out. - Now...
[Snoop Doggy Dogg] I once had a bitch named Mandy May
Used to be up in them guts like everyday.
The pussy was the bomb, had a nigga on sprung,
I was in love like a muthaf*cka lickin' the protung.
The homies used to tell me that she wasn't no good
But I'm the maniac in black, "Mr. Snoop Eastwood".
So I figure niggaz wouldn't trip with mine
Guess what? Got gaffled by one time!
I'm - back to the muthaf*ckin' county jail,
6 months on my chest, now it's time to bail.
Uhmmm! - I get's released on a hot sunny day,
My nigga D.O.C. and my homie Dr. Dre
Scooped in a Coupe. - "Snoop we got news! "
"Your girl was trickin' while you was draped in your county blues."
I ain't been out a second!
And already gotta do some muthaf*ckin' chin-n-checkin'!
Move up the block as we groove down the block,
See my girl's house. - "Dre! - Pass the Glock! "
Kick in the do'. - I look on the flo',
It's my little cousin Daz and he's f*ckin' my hoe!
Yo! - Bitches ain't shit... - I uncocked my shit.
I'm heart-broke but I'm still loc'ed, man; f*ck a bitch!
[Chorus]
[Bridge: Jewell (Dr. Dre)]
(Bitches ain't shit!) Ooohhhh-whooooohoooooohhhhhhh, yeeeaahhhhhh!
IIII don't give a fuuuuck (Bitches ain't shit!) - aboouuuut a biiiiitch!
But I and her knoooooow - that they can't faaaade thiiiiis,
Cause I'm doin my own thiiiiiiing (Bitches ain't shit!) down with the swaaaaang.
I'm hangin' with Death - Rooooowwwwww like it ain't no thiiiiing!
I say you know can't deaaaal! (Bitches ain't shit!) - Cause I'm a bitch, that's real!
Motherf*cker need to step baaaack! - Hell yeaaah! - They need to chiiiill!
Because (tell this mothaf*cka!) - I don't give a fuuuuuuuck! (Bitches ain't shit!)
And I don't give a fuuuuuuuck! - And I don't give a fuuuuuuuck! I don't give a fuuuuuuuck!
[Verse 3: Jewell (Dr. Dre)]
And now I gotta do some... (Bitches ain't shit!) And now I gotta do some shit, that's clean.
But when I'm on a dick. - Hell yeah, I get real mean!
Hahh! - Like a washing machine, I can wash the clooothes!
All the hoes knooows. - That I'm on the flo', hoe! (Bitches ain't shit!)
But they can't hang with my type on swaaang
I ain't tryna say I suck every ding-a-lang, (Bitches ain't shit!)
But just the juicy ones - with he tip of the tongue
And then their sprung - with the nuts hung! [echoes] [beat stops]
[Outro: Dr. Dre]
Bitches ain't shit! [echoes]
Writer: CALVIN BROADUS, NATHANIEL D HALE, JAMES SAMUEL III HARRIS, TERRY LEWIS, JONATHAN H SMITH, DAJUAN WALKER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
Lil Ghetto Boy
[Verse One: Snoop Doggy Dogg]
Wake up, jumped out my bed
Hung in a 2 man cell wit my homie Lil 1/2 Dead
Murder was the case that they gave me
Dear God, I wonder can you save me
I'm only 18, so I'm a young buck
It's a ride, if I don't scrap, I'm getting stuck
But that's the life of a G, I guess
Ese's way deep, shanked two in they chest
Bests run 'cause brothers is dropping quicker
Ugn, too late, damn, down goes another nigga
Bouncing off the walls, throwing them dogs
Getting a rep as a young hog
It ain't nuttin like the street life
Betta be strapped wit yo clip, cuz ain't no fist fight
So I guess I gots ta handle mine
Since I did the crime, I gots ta do my time
[Chorus: Dat Nigga Daz]
Lil' ghetto boy
Playing in the ghetto streets
What'cha gonna do when you grow up
And have to face responsibility
[Verse Two: Dr. Dre]
Now, I'm 'trolling the dove, sitting on swoll
27 years old, off on parole, stroll
I'm back up on my feet wit my mind on the money
That I'm making as soon as I touch the street
Things done changed but it's alright
Remember they used to thump but now they blast, right
But it ain't no thing to me
'Cause now I'm what they call a loced-assed O.G.
The little homies from the hood wit grip
Are the ones I get wit 'cause I'm down respect trip
Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so what'cha wanna do
Didn't know we had a 22
Straight sitting behind his back
I'm grab his pockets and then I heard six caps
I fell to the ground wit blood on my hands
I didn't understand
How a nigga so young could bust a cap
I use to be the same way back
I guess that's what I get (for what)
For trying to jack them little homies for they bread
[Chorus: Dat Nigga Daz]
Lil' ghetto boy
Playing in the ghetto streets
What'cha gonna do when you grow up
And have to face responsibility
[Verse Three: Snoop Doggy Dogg]
Something for the real OG's to get wit
Some facts, made our made, now you wanna run and play
Like every single day, really doe
You know me, I'm the smooth macadamien, gaming them for my homie
No need to be uncalm if you pack right
And learning just enuff to keep your sack right
Late nights, I wonder what they getting fo'
Early morning on the corners, what they hitting fo'
Seven young G's but they serve down
In a jeep ride, east side what they swerve now
Not thinking about what's really going on
Got crept on, stepped on, now they gone
I spent 4 years in the county wit nutting but convicts around me
But now I'm back at the pound
And we expose ways for the youth to survive
Some think it's wrong but we tend to think it's right
So make all them ends you can make
'Cause when you're broke, you break, check it out
So ain't no need for your mama to trip
'Cause you's a hustling ass youngsta, clocking your grip
[Chorus: Dat Nigga Daz]
Lil' ghetto boy
Playing in the ghetto streets
What'cha gonna do when you grow up
And have to face responsibility
Writer: CALVIN BROADUS, EARL DEROUEN, EDDY HOWARD, TRACY CURRY
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
A Nigga Witta Gun
[Chorus:]
Who is the man with the masterplan?
A Nigga Witta muthaf*ckin' Gun!
[Dr. Dre]
44 reasons come to mind
Why you muthaf*ckin' brothas hard to find.
He be walkin' on the streets and f*ckin' with mine.
Stupid punk can't f*ck with a mastermind.
See I never take a step on a Compton block
Or LA without the AK ready to pop.
'Cause them punk muthaf*ckas in black and white
Ain't the only muthaf*ckas I gots to fight.
I think it's better to retellin' the facts than cuffed up
And jacked and f*cked up.
What you niggas lookin at? You do in...
Goddamn, 'cause it's the city.
And for a youth to survive a nigga gotta be a gangster.
And I'm a nigga you can't remove.
Took out a lot of muthaf*ckas for tryin' to prove
To their homies they can hang by dealin' with me.
But once again in the end they D-E-A-D.
I never did time on a murder yet.
'Cause I relax and back do a job and jet.
Yo, I know you understand my flow,
So here we go when Death Row
Come. Let a mutherf*cker know...
[Chorus: 2x]
[Dr. Dre]
D-R-E! A mutherf*cker who's known for carryin' gats
And kick raps that make snaps.
Adapts to anything violent that I'm located at.
If you see me on the solo moves believe that I'm strapped.
44, .38 or AK 47.
'Cause Mo' live with Charlie Sheen.
You want a stairway to heaven?
Just put my finger on the trigger and pull back
And lay a punk mutherf*cker flat.
As he wonder what popped before he got popped,
I told you I was Dre and you know it don't stop.
Now I know you understand my flow,
So here we go when Death Row
Come. Let a mutherf*cker know...
[Chorus: 4x]
[Dr. Dre]
I break some off. I break some off.
Yeah, I break some off. I break some off.
Yeah, I break some off.
But I ain't speakin' about between the thighs.
I'm talkin' about cockin' a guage in between your eyes.
That'll make you drop to your knees, 'cause you realise
That a gat will make any nigga civilised.
Old buster ass nigga talkin' bullshit.
Don't know that I'm the wrong nigga to f*ck with.
Get lit or hit up by the doctor.
A nigga to break some off properly.
Real G.
So don't doubt it.
I'm the one who's doin' it
While these other niggas talk about it.
And if mutherf*ckers come at me wrong
I straight put my 44 Desert Eagle to his muthaf*ckin' dome.
And show him why they call me the notorious one.
The name is Dre, E's ward when I'm packin' a gun.
You don't believe me, wants to pop and give it a try.
And if you die you's a buster 'cause real niggas don't die.
But some still don't hear me though.
You're too ninny not to hear me, yo.
So now you know...
[Chorus: 4x]
Writer: RONALD BELL, RAY WRIGHT, KEVIN W. LASSITER, PETER ANTHONY DUARTE, CALLIE CHEEK, MICHAEL CHEEK, WILSON BECKETT, DENNIS WHITE, KEVIN BELL, CALVIN BROADUS, TRACY CURRY, JOHNNY HAMMOND SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., AUSTINTATIOUS TUNES
Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat
[Intro: guy talking]
You really don't understand do you?
Hey man, don't you know
In order for us to make this thing work
We gotta get rid of the pimps, and the pushers, and then start
All over agian clean
NIGGAZ you crazy!
[RBX]
Once again
The mighty Death Row organization commitin' mass murder
And we ain't askin for shit, nigga we takin'
It, so Dre, BLAST they ass nigga
[Dr. Dre]
Rat-tat-tat-tat late at night with my gat
On the streets of LA
Wonderin' where the pussy at
Staright for ya, looking for a hoe
Hangin' out, rollin in my '64
16 swicthes for the niggaz in my hood
17 shells so I make it understood
Stay back, lay back, way back in the cut
Ya come outside nigga ya gettin' f*cked up
But I told ya, Creep, Creep ya best move
Like Luthor Vadros, f*ckn' up the west coast
I'm right back up in ya when ya nut
1-2-3 nut, from the D-R-E but
This is for the hoes that I used to know
When I didn't have my '64 and a lot of doe
I keep ya this and like that
And I...
[Chorus:]
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Dr.Dre] Rat-tat-tat-tat tat ta tat like that, and I..
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Dr.Dre] Rat-tat-tat-tat tat ta tat like that, and I..
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Interlude: some guys talkin']
Ohh wait, that's that nigga that owe ya that grip
Ya,there that fool is
Break him off proper then
What's up, what's happinin'?
I'm the man, what's up?
Nigga you delinquent, can I get those in?
Nigga, pay this nigga here
(I ain't got yo money)
Well, yo, check this out, nigga
What's up *slaps around some guy that owes them money*
What's up?
What's up?
Ya motherf*cker
(I'll be back though, I'll be back)
Ya, you ain't never comin' back, fool
[Chorus:]
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Dr.Dre] Yeah nigga
[both] Rat-tat-tat-tat like that, and I..
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Dr.Dre] Rat-tat-tat-tat like that, and I..
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Dr.Dre] Rat-tat-tat-tat like that, and I..
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Dr.Dre] Rat-tat-tat-tat like that, and I..
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Dr. Dre]
Creepin and peepin' and I can get with these
The chronic, slangin' fat keys from my block
And it don't stop
Tell me where ya wanna go
To the strip
Or take a trip bawlin' with the row
My shit off in ya system
Indo smoke in ya lungs, like that
And you can lift it, on, and a fist a bomb
Takin' away like hell at Veitnam
California, back in and on a mission, makin a point
Ain't no f*ckin' competition
they wish they was a runnin' up in reality
C-P-T, CAL my locality
It's strage how I re-arange and change the buisness
By droppin' shit like this
Dope, ya can't cope with the real
I peal, in the penatentaries, and when I kill it goes...
[Chorus:]
[both] Rat-tat-tat-tat like that, and I...
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[both] Rat-tat-tat-tat like that, and I..
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Dr. Dre] Rat-tat-tat-tat like that, and I..
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Dr. Dre] Rat-tat-tat-tat like that, and I..
[Snoop] Never hesitate to put a nigga on his back
[Snoop Doggy Dogg]
Straight up, now you niggaz know where my homey's comin' from
so quit the chit-chat, before ya find yourself flat on your biz-out, fool
it's 9-deuce, Dr. Drizzay, is sittin on Tizzart! It don't stop
treartin' buster's like a punk ass kizzart!
BEEEYYACHH!
Writer: ANDRE YOUNG, TRACY CURRY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrical Gangbang
[Intro:]
This should be played at high volume
Preferably in a residential area
[Lady Of Rage]
Now I'ma kick up dust
As I begin to bust
On the wick-wack, f*cked up suckers you can't trust
When I pick up I lick up, ya face get smacked up
when I rack up, so all you motherf*ckers just pack up
Or get slapped with the swiftness
If you think you're swift then forget Merry Christmas
Now stuff that in your stocking
I'm knockin em out the box 'n'
Knockin em out their sock 'n'
Cuz Robin is rockin
Breakin em down to the slab
Takin em down on their ass
Now what you wanna do? Ya wanna battle, huh?
See ya watch and creak without a motherf*ckin paddle
Rattle that brain, I'm not that same ol' plain Jane
We're on you like a border, you're nothin more than a crane
Or a pebble, take it from the real rap rebel
Not Bushwick Bill but I can take it to that other level
You think you got pull then pull it, uhh!
I got the trigger so I figure you'll bite the bullet
Then bite the dust and wipe the f*ck
Do what I must and what I must is bust
The bubble or choose some trouble, forty-due's
So stick to my Luger, Lady of Rage is comin thru
[Dre] - (Some cool shit, some cool shit)
[Kurupt]
I fears no one, I makes em cool off like a ploar cap
Lynchin as I hits, misses the ?rollin back?
Pushin packs to make a profit
Diggy dope stuck on the topic so stop and gimme my pops, kid
I'm livin large like a fat bitch
So get back, bitch, I'm hard to broke art so the faggots
This young black kid, I'm mercenary, merciless
Murderin mega some niggas so who's first to diss
They say I'm bad so you'll find none worst than this
Chewin motherf*ckers up like a Hershey Kiss
Put to sleep, rippin the lyrics I'm leavin ??? ???
Rough wind flex too complex, wrecks, then I'm peace
So feel the wrath, nigga, I rip in half niggas
Ya quick ta talk shit I whip your ass nigga
So watch me blast, nigga, cuz I'm the last nigga
ya wanna f*ck wit, so up your cash, nigga
I make stagger, ob' skills and jimmy ragged
Home in and drag her, sit wit ya girl and watch me tag her
Pullin steel like a stunt
Sold like an ID card, nigga, no needs ta front, so
here to torment up a track on crack
and I'm strapped witta semi-toll milli-ten Mac
Yo, I breaks em off, I breaks em off cheap
Deadly as Jason on Friday The 13th
[RBX]
Back in the days, niggas they use to scrap
but now in ninety-due', niggas they pull they strap
Cuz, umm, police dem come wicked and dem shoot
Niggas, so niggas retaliate and start to loot
Execute, boom, stompin black soldier
Here ta teach and mould ya
The ennerator, dominator, narrator RB to the motherf*ckin X
Flex wicked styl-e, bompin be found into greed by a
Maniac with a gat
See nowadays niggas is like that
I pull my trigger back, the bullets go
BOP BOP BOP now I'm on Death Row
F*ck it, niggas goin wild, everynight they shoot
It's like Beirut
Maybe you should get a teflon vest for your chest
Anytime ya step into my hood
But that'll do you know good
One slug to ya face, no hate, you gettin smoked like wood
Nasty nigga but he pumps, face back on the concrete
Here comes the white sheet
Mr. Coroner cocked with some yellow tape
But the murderers escape
Audi lane 5 G's
Lyrical gangbang but it's just a G thang
Writer: ANDRE YOUNG, ROBIN ALLEN, ERIC COLLINS, CORDOZAR BROADUS, DONNY HATHAWAY, RICARDO BROWN
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
High Powered
[Intro: Dr. Dre (Lady Of Rage)]
Yo yo whut sup?
Yo man, give me some of that ol' gangsta shit, y'knowhutI'msayin?
Some shit I can just kick back to, smoke a fat ass joint to
YouknowhutI'msayin? He hahahahahahaha
Hell yeah! You know what I'm talkin about?
I like that ol' gangsta shit
Cuz you know it's a lot of niggas out there
woofin all that bullshit talkin 'bout they got this and got that
Talkin louder than a motherf*cker but ain't sayin shit
Heh y'knowhutI'msayin?
(Dem come witta, dem come witta, dem come wit da wickedness)
Yeah nigga I see your lips quiverin
But you ain't sayin a motherf*ckin thing
For my niggas, I got my niggas in the motherf*ckin he-ouse
and they gon' tell yo' what's really goin on
Got my motherf*ckin nigga RBX...definitely in this motherf*cker
I got my nigga Daz in this motherf*cker ready to kick some real shit
Y'knowhutI'msayin?
And that lil' shit cha hear in the background, that's my homegirl Rage
So RBX kick this shit
[RBX]
Seven execution style murders
I have no remorse cuz I'm the f*ckin murderer
Haven't you ever heard of a killer?
I drop bombs like Hiroshima
So now I walk around strapped
One-time bust they caps and watch niggas collapse
Snap! Adapt to this but you need no adapter
This is just the first chapter
in a book from a crook
You get caught slippin yo' ass gots ta die
Nigga, tell me what the f*ck you figure?
Trigger? Happy RBX to cap ya
POP POP and I can't wait to bust a pound
POP POP my hollow points smacks the clown
Cuz what I said split his head
And now they got me runnin from the feds
But I refuse to go alive
It's kill or be killed, that's how real niggas survive
I'm high powered!
[Outro: Dat Nigga Daz]
Yeah!
It's Daz that mass-murderin motherf*cker
So what you feel like you wanna get caught up?
Fool you better recognise
Death Row came to chastise
So if you cross the Row
Remember the first name is Death
No love for the other side
Writer: Andre Romell Young, Colin Fitzroy Wolfe, Eric Collins
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
Stranded On Death Row
"Yes, it is I," says me
And all who agree are more than three 'cause they're we
Yes, yo, I'm in the house now for sure
Because I wanna talk about the hearts of men
Who knows what evil lurks within them?
But let's take a travel down the blindside
And see what we find on this path called
Stranded on Death Row, so duck when I swing my shit
I get rugged like Rawhead Rex with fat tracks that fits
The gangsta type, what I recite's kinda lethal
Niggas know the flow that I kick there's no equal
I'm murderin' niggas, yo, and maybe because of the tone I kicks
When I grips the mic and kick shit niggas can't f*ck with
So remember I go hardcore, and slam
'Nough respect like a sensei, whoop ass like Van Damme
So any nigga that claim they bossin'
Why don't you bring your ass on over to Crenshaw and Slauson?
Take a walk through the hood, where we up to no good
Slangin' them things like a real O-G should
I'm stackin' and mackin' and packin' a ten so
When you're slippin', I slip the clip in
But ain't no set trippin'
'Cause it's Death Row, rollin' like the mafia
Think about whoopin' some ass, well what the f*ck stoppin' ya?
Ain't nathin' but a busta
I'm stranded on Death Row for pumpin' slugs in motherf*ckers
Now you know you're outdone
Feel the shotgun, Kurupt, inmate, cell block one
No prevention from this lynchin' of sorts
You're a victim from my drive-by of thoughts
No extensions, all attempts are to fail
Blinded by the light, it's time you learn braille
From a lunatic, I'm death like arsenic
When I kick up wicked raps
Dr. Dre will kick the scratch
With treachery, my literary form will blast
And totally surpass the norm
Not a storm, plural, make it, many storms
When I'm vexed, I fight leg, necks and arms
In this dimension, I'm the presenter
And the inventor, and the tormentor
Deranged, like the Hillside Strangler
MC-mangler, tough like Wrangler
I write a rhyme, hard as concrete
Step to the heat and get burned like mesquite
So what you wanna do?
The narrator RBX, cell block two
Rage, lyrical murderer
Stranded on Death Row
And now I'm servin' a lifetime sentence
There'll be no repentance
Since it's the life that I choose to lead, I plead guilty
On all counts, let the ball bounce where it may
It's just another clip into my AK
Buck 'em down with my underground tactics
Facts and stacks of clips on my mattress
Bed frame there's another dead, bang
Layin' lame put to shame, who's to blame?
Me, The Lady of Rage
A woman comin' from the D-E-A-T-H and R-O-W, takin' no shit
So flip and you're bound to get dropped
It's 187 on motherf*ckers, don't stop
Handcuffed as I bust, there'll be no debate
It's Rage, from cell block H
Ayo, steppin' through the fog and creepin' through the smog
It's the number one nigga from the hood, Doggy Dogg
Makin' videos, now I stay in Hollywood
Bustin' raps for my snaps, now they call me Eastwood
Dre is the doctor and my homie, lil' nigga
Warren G is my hand and my hand's on the trigger
Shootin' at the hoes with the game that I got
Sent to Death Row 'cause I wanted to make a grip from servin' my rocks
And I'm still servin' for mine
Peace to my motherf*ckin' homies doin' time
In the pen and the county jail
Mobbin' with your blues on, mad as hell
And you're sayin', "F*ck the police"
And all the homies on the streets is all about peace
And it's drivin' the cops crazy
But ain't nothin' but a black thing, baby
Uh, I'm not flaggin' but I'm just saggin'
I bet you don't wanna see the D-O-Double-G
And you can't see the D-R to the E
Or my motherf*ckin' homie D.O.C.
You know you can't f*ck with my motherf*cking DJ
That's my homie and we call him Warren G
Yeah, and you don't stop
Doggy Dogg break 'em down with the motherf*ckin' Dogg Pound
That's the only way we'll beat 'em, man
We gotta smoke 'em, then choke 'em like the motherf*ckin' Peterman
It's like three and to the two, and two and to the one
Cell block four, peace, Doggy Dogg's done
Yo, now you know the path I'm on
You think you're strong?
See if you could travel on
'Cause only the weak will try to speak
Those who are quiet will always cause riots
There's three types of people in the world
Those who don't know what happened
Those who wonder what happened
And people like us from the streets that make things happen
Writer: Robin Y. Allen, Calvin Cordozar Broadus, Ricardo Emmanuel Jr. Brown, Allen Williams, Andre Romell Young, Billy Nichols, Eric Dwayne Collins, Isaac Lee Hayes
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, RBX MUSIC, THE MUSIC GOES ROUND