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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Serial Killa (Feat D.o.c., Rbx, Tha Dogg Pound) |
Album: | Doggystyle | Genres: | Classical |
Year: | 1993 |
Length: | 216 sec |
Lyrics:
Serial Killa w/ Kurupt, Daz, RBX
Six million ways to die, choose one
[Kurupt] It's time to escape, but I don't know where the fuck I'm headed Up or down, right or left, life or death I see myself in a mist of smoke Death becomes any nigga that takes me for a joke We hit a five dollar stick, now we puttin in work Unaccountable amounts of dirt, death becomes all niggaz anybody killa, you know what the deal is Nigga, you know what the real is
[Daz] I see some mark brand niggaz on the corner flaggin me down Sayin, 'Yo Daz, what's up with the Pound? Is that nigga Snoop alright? Aiyyo what's up with the crew? Is them niggaz in jail, or are them niggaz through?' I said, 'If you ain't up on thangs.. Snoop Dogg is the name, Dogg Pound's the game' It's like this they don't understand It's an everyday thang, to gangbang Make that twist, don't be a bitch, let these niggaz know What's up witchu I represent the Pound and Death Row And can't no other motherfucker in L.A. or Long Beach and Compton and Watts see D-O-G's Now, you can't come and you can't run, and you can't see long to the G of the gang One gun is all that we need, to put you to rest {Pump pump!} Put two slugs dead in your chest Now you dead then a motherfucker creepin and sleepin 6 feet deep in, fuckin with the Pound is
[RBX] Suicide, it's a suicide (4X)
[Snoop] The cloud becomes black, and the sky becomes blue Now you in the midst of the Dogg Pound crew Ain't no clue, on why the fuck we do what we do Leave you in a state of paranoia, oooh Don't make a move for your gat so soon cuz I drops bombs like Platoon (ay nigga) Walk with me, hold my hand and let me lead you I'll take you on a journey, and I promise I won't leave you (I won't leave you) until you get the full comprehension And when you do, that's when the mission or survival, becomes your every thought Keep your eyes open, cuz you don't wanna be caught Half steppin with your weapon on safety Now break yourself motherfucker, 'fore you make me take this 211 to another level I come up with your ends, you go down with the devil Now roam through the depths of hell Where the rest your busta ass homeboys dwell Well...
[RBX] Suicide, it's a suicide (4X)
Now tell me, what's my motherfuckin name?
[RBX] Serial killa, serial killa, serial killa
('Wake up in the mornin, to Lucky Charms cereal..')
[RBX] Deep, deep like the mind of Minolta, now picture this! Let's picnic inside a morgue Not pic-a-nic baskets, pic-a-nic caskets And I got the machine, that cracks your fuckin chest plates open and release them guts Then I release def cuts Brutal, jagged edged, totally ruffneck Now everybody scream nuff respect to the X Nuff respect given Disrespect and you will not be livin Word to momma, Emma, drama, dilemma
[RBX] Suicide, it's a suicide (4X)
Now tell me, what's my motherfuckin name Serial killa, serial killa, serial killa
('Wake up in the mornin, to Lucky Charms cereal..')
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