|
Have you ever seen... sooo much style?
|
We bout to do it a little somethin like this
|
Cause it's Dogg Pound on mines, you know what I'm sayin?
|
(and you don't stop)
|
Fuck all your motherfuckers
|
(and you don't quit)
|
And umm... for some strange reason
|
(and you don't stop)
|
Niggaz like to duplicate
|
(and you don't quit)
|
(and you don't stop)
|
Transformin ass side bustas, Daz
|
(and you don't quit)
|
|
[Dat Niggaz Daz]
|
Come get at me, and play get back
|
The plots, concoct thoughts on DAT, can you counteract?
|
I'm openin my eyes, and my thoughs a blink
|
(but yet and still) there's no ideal what these thoughts contain
|
All alone (like) like no else around
|
in the area (say what) runnin shit from here to Siberia
|
Now is this a jack?
|
|
[Kurupt]
|
Nigga yes it is
|
Cause I'm a Young Gun like Emilio Estevez
|
|
[Dat Nigga Daz]
|
And dreaded, how you get shredded like paper
|
tryin to intrude on the caper, who the hell can relate ta
|
That, automatic straps that's supposed to
|
be hittin new clothes and expose
|
Knows, not, who to step to
|
This fool select to get his whole jock connect too
|
I select too so motherfucker bow down
|
Niggaz swear the Pound got so much style
|
|
*chorus*
|
Sooo many styles (repeat 3X)
|
*repeat 4X*
|
|
[Kurupt]
|
Now have you ever seen me? Seen meaning saw
|
Niggaz running up in me murdering em all
|
My composure, stays above sixty degrees before
|
I enter in a circle and start maraudin MC's
|
The hysteria starts, multiplied two times
|
Supplied by the vibes, here's a run wild style
|
they can't match, in the back of my vocab batch
|
If you come in and take the stash nigga I'll start from scratch
|
So enter in my zone, I refuse to be dethroned
|
I got a microphone I had to kill and murder to own
|
From the bottom to the top and when you stare in my eyes
|
emotionless shit registers in my mind when I get high
|
The darkest secrets, keep it untold
|
when it's revealed the Amityville mirage will unfold
|
Take flight, I ignite like C dash 4
|
With Daz I blow the shit the fuck up like the last world war
|
My creations, mental invasions
|
Thoughts that's able to annihilate generations, with so much style
|
|
Chorus 2X
|
|
[Dat Nigga Daz]
|
Now let me take a second, for Dat Nigga Daz
|
to amaze with the ways to catch snap bones, let alone
|
Fuck up the scene, drop bombs upon the microphone
|
How can you see me when I'm already high and blown
|
to the fullest, Kurupt pull the MC's card
|
Now the Pound is blessed, like dove
|
I'm a Dogg, we gotta get paid, we gotta get paid
|
|
[Kurupt]
|
Every single day our shit is gettin played
|
So conclusively is the conclusion
|
The art of illusion
|
Niggaz step in the midst of confusion
|
How can you see what can't be viewed?
|
DPG has the ability to end a whole feud
|
So forget it, you're feelin lyrically energetic
|
So I sentence you to death by use of poetics
|
That's my realm, so don't even try to explore it
|
Niggaz tried and wonder why they lost they whole life for it
|
|
[Dat Nigga Daz]
|
Niggaz don't realize what's with the Pound
|
Blueberry smokes clears the town when me and Kurupt puts it down
|
From the shoulders we be sling with the straps, we be jumpin
|
No suggestions needed when my Mac-90 start dumpin
|
Let me explain (whassup) niggaz don't know what time it is
|
I ain't even tryin to make friends
|
Fuck the bullshit the idiotic type bullshit
|
that you be stressin, let me get to the lesson
|
Peep me out, now you know
|
Ninety-four's the year now we fuck up hoes
|
Ninety-five we survive everyday
|
and what they say (we got styles)
|
|
*chorus to end with spoken shoutouts to DPG over*
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Sooo Much Style
|
| Tha Dogg Pound |
