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Verse one： |
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Creepin' down the back street on deez |
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I got my glock ********ed cuz ********z want these |
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Now soon as i said it, seems i got sweated |
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By some ******** with a tech 9 tryin' to take mine |
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Ya wanna make noise, make noise |
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I make a phone call my ********z comin' like the gotti boys |
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Bodies bein' found on greenleaf |
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With their ******** heads cut off, mother******** i'm dre |
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So listen to the play-by-play, day-by-day |
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Rollin' in my '4 with 16 switches |
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And got sounds for the ********, clockin' all the riches |
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Got the hollow points for the snitches |
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So would you just walk on by, cuz i'm too hard to lift |
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And no this ain't aerosmith |
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It's the mother******** d-r-e, from the cpt |
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On a ryhmin' spree, a straight g |
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Hop back as i pop my top ya trip |
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I let the hollow points commence to pop pop pop |
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Yeah, cuz if it don't stop |
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I have to put my ************t in reverse go back and take anothers stop |
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Cause i'm (rollin in my six-fo') |
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With all the ********z sayin |
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Chorus: |
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Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride |
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Hell yeah |
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Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride |
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With all the ********z sayin |
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Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride |
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Hell yeah |
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Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride |
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Verse two: |
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Just another mother******** day for dre so i begin like this |
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No medallions, dreadlocks, or black fists it's just |
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That gangster glare, with gangster raps |
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That gangster ************t, that makes the gang of snaps, uhh |
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Word to the mother******** streets |
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And word to these hyped ass lyrics and **** beats, that i |
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Hit ya with that i, get ya with |
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As i groove in my four on deez, hittin the switches |
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******** relax while i get my proper swerve on |
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Bumpin like a mother******** ready to get my serve on |
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But before i hit the **** spot |
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I gotta get the chronic, the reme martin and my soda pop |
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Now i'm smellin like indo-nesia |
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Bus stop full of fly ******** and skeezers |
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On my ************, cause my four on hit |
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Pancake front and back, side to side and all that ************t |
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So when i crawl i comes correct |
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Now, if your ************ in my ************t, it's your ************ you check ******** |
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Now let the chevrolet slide |
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As i dip a ******** trip to the south side, yeah |
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(rollin in my six-fo') with all the ******** sayin |
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(chorus) |
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Verse three: |
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Check this out |
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The sun went down when i hit slausson |
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On my way to the strip, now i'm just flossin |
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Checkin my rearview, cause ********z they will do |
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Jack moves, black fools cause i smack fools |
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Try to set me up for a two-eleven |
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******** around and get caught up in a one-eight-seven |
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But i don't represent no ******** |
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Some ********z like lynchin but i just watch them hang |
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So on, and so-on, why don't you let me roll on |
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I remember back in the dayz when i used to have to get my stroll on |
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Didn't nobody wanna speak; now everybody |
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Peepin out they windows when they hear me beatin up the streets |
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Is it dre? is it dre? |
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That's what they say, every single mother******** day, yo |
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But i ain't trippin i'm just kickin it |
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While my deez keep spinnin and these hoes keep grinnin i'll be |
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(rollin in my six-fo') with everybody sayin |
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(chorus: to end) |