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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
| Song: | Dogg Market |
| Album: | EBK4 | Genres: | Rap |
| Year: | 2000 |
Length: | 216 sec |
Lyrics:
I'm in a murderous-mental mindstate Monopolizin’ on 'em, enterprise with homicide Rock this dope and cut them corners worldwide Visualize two young killas on the rise Ain't that a bitch? Snoop Dogg and Brotha Lynch
And we remain bombed out (what), no doubt Eat niggas up with sauerkraut (what up), haul 'em out 'Bout to open my own business, Siccmade Meats Where you gonna get your product from, nigga? Sacramento streets (WHY), gotta be ‘Cause these niggas be trippin’ I'm dippin' in and out the city with the Frank Nitti (With with what?) With no pity, dingy, dirty, grimey and gritty, get me
I had a bundle of bitches before I had a bundle a dollars A fist full a problems while I'm poppin’ my collar (ay, ay, ay) Sockin’ bustas, frontin’ hustlers with they work on the streets From the streets, to the suites (To the what?) To the slugs, to the heats (Bang) Please believe, let me holler at you, nephew What you do and what I do, I'll make you wan' act a fool
Alright, wait, wait, wait, hold up About 8 million lies up in the city Smashin’ with the 50 slug, no love Leave ya layin’ down lookin’ at the stars above (‘Cause what?) ‘Cause everything fade to black, like a scene change Ain't it strange? Illegal procedure, you out the game Let ya nuts hang in the rain (rain) On them roaches like Raid spray, laid 'em up with the hay They, found the body three months later as I hit him with the potato Ate up his midsection, recollection, murder on my mind (Ay, what) Got me chin-checkin, and they said (He ain’t real) Heard it all the time That's what these muthafuckas think about me, they ain't made it Mad ‘cause niggas be tryna sprout trees And smoke weed every day, best believe, every day Ay you, you niggas tryna stop progress, move out my way Bet you never see me in black clothes Creepin’ out the backyard hard-boiled with lead toes
I got so much to do with so little time My folks smoke dope that'll blow ya mind I bust a bitch about a quarter to nine So by 10:15, I got my dick on her spine Relax, recline, roll somethin’, nigga Hit this shit, blaze it up, now raise it up The grip and the bitch, yeah, stays with us Now, a lot of y'all niggas be talkin’ 'bout y'all livin’ it up And give it up But let me take it back to the essence and shit Meditate and drop a message and shit You crumb-snatchin’, no rappin’ peasants The big dog want it all, I came back to snatch all y'all presents Dippin’, slippin’, slidin’ away From the Sac-town to the L-B, we do this shit like every day Do you feel me? I'm the untouchable Fuckin with the reputable, unquestionable, remarkable Fabulous and all that shit You know, I'm the original, biatch, the original, biatch
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