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[Intro/Chorus: Charlie Wilson] |
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Ain't no funk, it's funky, it's Doggystyle (Ain't it funky nuff?) |
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(Death Row-ow, Death Rowwwww) |
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(Everybody knows I got more bounce than an ounce) |
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[repeat] |
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[Verse 1: Snoop Doggy Dogg] |
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Shucks, stompin in my big blue chucks |
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More bounce to the ounce while I'm ditchin you clutz |
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Bump-bump-bump-bump while you're bumpin your sounds |
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It's the zoo and the Pound we don't fuck around |
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Relax your mind and let your conscience be free |
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and get down, stompin grounds is the LBC |
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I slid up out the game and MC's get wacked |
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but now I'm back (Oh shit!), so go get your strap |
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Watch your head, I break wit |
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wit G's, Muslims, hardheads and dreds |
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Bounce, rock while rollerskatin |
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on them 20 inch tyres wit the platinum Daytons |
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I'm not that BG poppin all that junk |
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about "I'll fuck you up", he sound like a punk |
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I been there and done that, no inspiration |
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All day illustration beat conversation |
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[Chorus] |
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[Verse 2: Snoop Dogg] |
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I keep niggas in the studio, word is bond |
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Been workin on ya new album for two years strong |
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and still can't come up with the right song |
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You know what they say:'Study long, study long' |
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All aboard the train so come along |
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cos we keep the glue stuff against the bone |
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It's alright ain't no room for wrong |
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Doggyland is the motherland, make yourself at home |
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I got money loads by the barrels |
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I even got a few fans that's crazy like DeNiro |
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I'm international money maker, player hater |
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shhok up off the sake of spendin dollars and I always holler |
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at a player though cos players know the real from the fake |
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You can put that on your toast, your coast and your state |
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I give you people what you like |
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What I look like in jail and can't get on the mic |
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[Chorus x1 1/2] |
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[Verse 3: Snoop Dogg] |
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Killin up crews, give em the real street blues |
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Have em slidin in their eelskins, groovin in their tennis shoes |
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Of course it don't stop bein a Westside ridah |
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Wit no tattoo that's how they got the clue |
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I lay conversation on wax and CD's |
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BG's and o-riginals, here come the mission |
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Makin biters ride the Pound for the rest of the season |
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Doggy DPG ya lil homey, uhh |
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I represent the LBC-ment |
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Windows tint, nigga that's the president |
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I hit you with a tune every blue moon |
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Collard on your plate so you can stuff it in your face |
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Nigga say your Grace before you touch your plate |
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It taste like it's laced but it ain't |
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This one puff uncut, no doubt |
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Everybody know I gotta ounce and a half |
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[Chorus x1 1/2] |
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[Outro:] |
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Shucks |
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(Oooh ooh ooohhh oooohhhh ooh, oooh oooh oooohhhh ooh) |
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(Death Rowwww, Death Rowwww) |
