It's just another day in the hood for Kurupt, yeah, that's me
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Got schooled by Snoop in a black Cherokee
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Daz in the back, Warren G. in the front
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Nice sack of chronic with some gin in a cup
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Back up I stack up the weed
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Tha Pound and the Row is my only friends
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If you talk shit, I hit you hard as I can
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You talk shit once but never again
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Well, I'm back with the bubonic chronic sack for that ass
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So all my doggs pack the back, laced his ass
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To the fullest feeling I'm feelin you never could feel
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While your mind is comin where your body is chill
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As I mob with tha pound and my nigga Nate Dogg
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Not flaggin, not saggin, but havin a ball
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Yo, saw y'all motherfuckers wanna see like doggs
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Wanna be like doggs, but can't compare to doggs
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It's like one to the two, two to the three
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K to the U-R-U-P-T
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In fact, I steps with a tech in the back
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In the hood, ain't got no love, so I packs a strap
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And I once knew a nigga named Dr. Dre
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He was a baller from the motherfucking CPT (a baller from the CPT)
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He hooked up with the niggas from the LBC
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And now they fuckin up the whole rap industry
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Well, check it out, and peep game on the one they call Dat Nigga Daz
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An OG straight puttin it down for the Eastside (right)
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But this is just a dove sack of dope
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So till yo ass dopes this mo
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Now, you can't see my mothafuckin homies from the CPT
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And you can't see my mothafuckin doggs from the LBC
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Check this flow, Hoover ain't the word to describe me, nigga
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Remember, I'm murderin niggas as a hobby
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Bodies get battered for fuckin with the best dogg dump
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With the tech-n-terror to fuckin chest start
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Do I give a fuck (hell no) I'm a locc nigga
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Who you tryin to provoke (nigga) step up, get smoked nigga
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Get the strap in the back I'm rollin and a bumpin
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Niggas talk shit I won't write and start dumpin
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Uh, who play the role like the G's
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Punk ass middle fuckin mark niggas, please
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Murder in the first degree
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I step with a tech, burst and flee
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You'll find none worst than me
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See, motherfuckers murdered and mangled, strangled
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Our bitches like a bangled
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Take ya from a whole different angle
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Bitches, I'm never sympin, You'll see me pimpin
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I step the clip in, bust a cap
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Watch them fall flat on they back
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Like this and like that from an automatic strap
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So for tryin the techno
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Respect I gets wrecked with a glock
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And it just don't stop
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I check every nigga known that's tryin to check me
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I wreck microphones verbally, respect me
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I'm off to the sto(re) to get me a fo(ur)
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Oh, so I'm headed out the door
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Now as I roll with Kurupt and my cousin Eastwood
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On a mission up to no good
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We don't love you bitch
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After we finish diggin
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Tha Pound's about that dollar and takin no shit
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From the busta ass niggas, Bell it out shit
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Trick, recognize game when it slaps your face
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See I ain't no fzzzake, I take you to the next stzzzage
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One time can't trzzzace, now why you punk twice
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Now, you've been sleeping on the desk for a long time
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Waitin for the nigga to come bust a dogg rhyme
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So motherfuckers throw your hands in the air
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And get your proper groove on like you don't care
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See I don't love them hoes
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I like a butta nose
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Keep my mind on my money, that's just how my money flows
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And so
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How, I thought you knew, but now you know
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Dogg Pound's in tha house, now in the coupe, Just Doggin
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Dogg Pound's in tha house, now in the coupe, Just Doggin
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Just Doggin'
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Tha Dogg Pound |