Lyrics:

Yo what's up? (Eh yo what's up Kurupt?)
A nigga been so low that I can't come up
Dippin' down the 101 blazin' smoke
A trunk full of beat and a jar of the doe

Kurupt, Snoop, c'mon let's do the damn thang
Show all the lil' homies how the Dogg Pound bang

Mash fast, the upper class
Went from low life to a brotha with cash

Spent all of my time and like half my cash
Went from smokin' dimes to smokin' mafia bags
Went from sometimes to smokin' all in the bath
And Lord knows, I might host the Weed Award Show

I'm lookin' for the 105 gettin' off the 405
Mackin' with this bad bitch, she live in Riverside
I met her at the club with my nigga Gotti
5' foot 3, thick with a lot of body

That's what I love 'bout the homies (What's that?)
It's just like a nigga gettin' trained, the homie spittin' game
(Nigga) This shit makes no sense
I'm tryin' to make a dollar out of 15 cents

And money and funny niggas don't mix at all
And Cali's the perfect weather to get your chips and ball
So you can touch it while you're here, you could die without it
I'd rather have it, since it really don't matter
- X 2
The world spins around once more
They thought that the West Coast left
But we still gon' flow, uh
Mo' Money 2 Fold
Nigga ice cold
Mo' Money 2 Fold

A G is a G which we all know
A bitch is a bitch as a ho's a ho
Disrespect his cousin I'mma bank ya (bank ya)
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta

What's three gangstas in a Cadillac?
With TV's, CD's, some weed and three weeks
Chucks and french braids, blunts and gold chains
Hats and white T's and fat gats like po-lice

When we on the East Coast we get nothin' but love
All off in the club, DJ holla'd out who we was
I looked around and seen some MC's and grabbed the mic
And then I light they ass up to keep the party on high

Hit me on the Motorola, holla at the homie
(What's up Kurupt?!) - Sippin' on a Corona
I'm 'bout to dip through, blaze up a quarta - ounce
Bounce with the homies and make the toy bounce

I like my Hennessy with Coke, I like my weed chronic smoke
I like my - Gin straight, my Benjamin's big faced
My women give big face, my niggas get big laced
Big homes and big Bentley Coupe's on chromes

We rollin' through the Wild Wild West
No respect to the click, it keeps us on deck
Most niggas probably wanna bust us or even dust us
The thing is we doin' the right thing so you niggas can't touch us

The world spins around once more
They thought that the West Coast left
But we still gon' flow, uh
Mo' Money 2 Fold
Nigga ice cold
Mo' Money 2 Fold

I been on one - fuck a little bit, give me a lot
I want a state, not an acre, not a block
I want a skyscraper, not no apartment buildin'
And I want billions in case I got part with millions

They wonder why they ain't reached the top
That's cause they don't deserve to
Now shut the fuck up 'fore I get my girl to serve you
(Nigga) Playin' no games
So I check a nigga, I ain't sayin' no names

How I movin'?, Who I move with? - that's what they wonder
But they just can't seem, to slide up on it
Nigga that don't work his shit up off a corner
I work a bitch from Pomona to Tacoma, nigga ya wanna?

Dippin' down the block - where all the homies at
Fleetwoods and 'Llacs, all the homies strapped
Nigga I rise for the hood homeboy
'What up dogg?' - Nah, it ain't all good homeboy

Like we said before - your face to the floor
We holdin' up your motherfuckin' candy store
And don't nobody get up 'til we hit the door
(I said lay down, don't look at us!)

Dogg Pound Gangstas in grey and blue

Took over the world just by stayin' true
You can bang to the boogie and hang out all late
But get some money to fold because the game don't wait
- X 4
The world spins around once more
They thought that the West Coast left
But we still gon' flow, uh
Mo' Money 2 Fold
Nigga ice cold
Mo' Money 2 Fold