you're a part of my heart And I'm apart from my heart, my heart From, from, from, from From, from, from From, from, from From, from, from, from From, from, from (My heart) From, from, from
West Coast, it's time to stand up We gon' unite 'round this motherf*** one time I'm callin' every real Crip And every real B dog to the table right now
back when I was just a little bitty boy Living in a box Under the stairs In the corner of the basement In the house half a block down the street from
No Diggity Blackstreet/Dr. Dre/Queen Pen You know what I like the playettes No diggity, no doubt Play on playette Play on playette Yo Dre, drop
so, uh Where do we go from here? Where do we go from here? (Take it all, you need me) Yes sir, niggas said Dr Wine wasn't nothing 3 years later Dr Wine
the drop Well man, I do the yacht You pull up in parking lots I pull up the dock like Yeahhh Macaroni greens and hamhocks, I am not on your planet like Dr
out there? All my ladies, all my fellas Make some noise out there! I just love music nigga {Hell yeah} Yessir {Uh-huh!} Michael Jackson, we love you dog
man up This is sumtn' for all my peeps on da East Side A lil sumtn' for my G's on the West Side Now if ya want it we on it dog, ya know how it is We're
be the homeboy's lady (oh, that bitch) Eighty degrees, when I tell that chick please In a dog pound, feelin' the breeze. [Chorus] [Verse Three:] Later on that day My homey dr
time for your mind Here I go with my rhyme I'm gonna get him from the front You can get him from behind Sen Dog gonna be real Puttin' it down for tha
And wait in the parkin' lot for waitresses off the clock When it's late and the lot gets dark and fake like he walks his dog Drag 'em in the woods and
my life is? (Huh?) My brain's dead weight, I'm tryin' to get my head straight But I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate (Umm) And Dr
why i'm trapped, don't go away i need ya' in da tub, it's so hot when you f*** the club, what am i sayin' yeah i'm playin', dr. dre's gone, now he's
stars Intergalatical metaphors from Mars! Raw to the floor, raw like Reservoir Dogs Bite another line from Redman's song! Suddenly the stub from a dead man's arm From
Kweli on a mission, gettin' Pharoahe for help From natives walkin' in trailor tears to players sippin' Belvedere We always comin' well prepared, and all my dogs' smellin' fear Plus, even my niggaz from
's no lights in the place you buy your jewelry from Funeral fab, I'm just here to bury them Reporting live from the beacon Booth tired from the beatin
shouts to my homeys up in New Or' on and off the court you know I do her peace to that dog and peace to this dog here comes the Phife Dawg aka the top dog
every nigga's hood I don't waste time, I need to get what's mine Fourteen shells from behind Leave you in the blind, str-8 paralysed from ya spine A
