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I come creepin through the fog with my saggin Dukes East Side, Long Beach, in a Coupe DeBille I'm rollin with the G Funk, bumpin in my shit and it don't quit So drop it on the one motherfucker put together that set A nigga with a grip of that gangsta shit With the Eastside hoes on my motherfuckin dick And the Compton niggaz all about to set trip Swing it back, bring it back, just like this And if you with my shit, then blaze up another spliff And keep the motherfuckin blunt in your pocket loc Cuz Doggy Dogg is all about the zig zag smoke See it's a West coast thing, where I'm from And if you want some, get some, bad enough, take some But watch the gun by my side Because it represents me and the motherfuckin East Side So bow down to the bow wow, cause bow wow yippie yo, you can't see my flow My shit is dope, original, now you know And can't no hood fuck with Death Rizzow Chorus. Snoop Doggy Dogg Guess who back in the motherfuckin house With a fat dick for your motherfuckin mouth Hoes recognize, niggaz do too Cuz when bitches get skanless and pull a voodoo What you gon do? C Went solo on that ass, but it's still the same Long Beach is the spot where I served my cane Follow me, follow me, follow me, follow me, but don't lose your grip Nine-trizzay's the yizzear for me to fuck up shit So I ain't holdin nuttin back And motherfucker I got five on the twenty sack It's like that and as a matter of fact [rat-tat-tat-tat] Cuz I never hesitate to put a nigga on his back [Yeah, so peep out the manuscript You see that it's a must we drop gangsta shit] What's my motherfuckin name? Malik] Now just back up, don't act up, I pack up much heat Any battle I'm in, I win, I can't be beat Don't sleep while I creep peep out my technique I forgot, I'm out of sight so you can't see the MC of the year, you hear and you fear i got somethin for them niggaz in the front and the rear I handle the sides, did a driveby in the who-ride I'm satisfied now everything is really alright You know when I come nigga I come wicked Don't need no permisison, motherfucker I'ma kick it Niggaz sweat my shit I wet em up with the biscuit Lick em up shot, it don't stop, till dem all drop Make up your mind, go pop or slang rocks Just stop, rottin on the next niggaz jock I'm strapped with my glock on your block And ready to let loose on the first imitator that I spot. Dre But this time I'ma hit yo' ass with a touch To leave motherfuckers in a daze, fucked up So sit back relax new jacks get smacked It's Snoop Doggy Dogg I'm at the top of the stack I don't lack for a second, and I'm still checkin The dopest motherfucker that ya hearin on the record it's me, ya see, S-N-double-O-P D-O-double-G-Y, the D-O-double-G I'm fly as a falcon, soarin through the sky And I'm high till I dizzie, rizzide So check it, I get busy, I make your head dizzy I blow up your mouth like I was Dizzy Gillespie I'm crazy, you can't phase me I'm the S oh yes, I'm fresh, I don't fuck with the stress I'm all about the chronic, bionic ya see Every single day, chillin with the D-O-double-G's P-O-U-N-D that's my clique, my crew Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up I thought ya knew, but yet and still Ya wanna get real, now it's time to peel, ya say chill and feel, the motherfuckin realism Snoop Doggy Dogg is on the mic i'm hittin hard as steel nigga Chorus Verse Two: Snoop] Guess who's back, back?
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Snoop Doggy Dogg] Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin house Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay Death Row's in the motherfuckin house Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay The sounds of a dog brings me to another day Play with my bone, would ya Timmy It seems like you're good for makin jokes about your jimmy But here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like I heard she was the 'Frisco dyke But fuck your mama, I'm talkin about you and me Toe to toe, Tim M-U-T Your bark was loud, but your bite wasn't vicious And them rhymes you were kickin were quite bootylicious You get with Doggy Dogg oh is he crazy? Dre, dropin' chronic once again It don't stop, punishing punk motherfuckers real quick like Compton style nigga Doggy Dogg in the motherfuckin' house, yeah Long Beach in the motherfuckin' house, yeah Yeah, straight up, really doe Breakin' all you suckaz off somethin' real proper like You know what I'm sayin'? Now, we ain't no motherfuckin joke so remember the name Mighty, mighty D-R. Dre] Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin about We have your motherfuckin record company surrounded Put down the candy and let the little boy go You knowhatI'msayin, punk motherfucker We want Eazy, we want Eazy [Verse Two: Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat Your dick on hard, from fuckin' your road dogs The hood you threw up with, niggaz you grew up with Don't even respect your ass That's why it's time for the doctor, to check your ass, nigga Used to be my homey, used to be my ace Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth Nigga bow down to the row Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little hoe Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide Let me ride, just another homicide Yeah, it's me so I'ma talk on Stompin' on the Eazyest streets that you can walk on So strap on your Compton hat, your locs And watch your back cause you might get smoked, loc And pass the bud, and stay low-key B. Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat Your dick on hard, from fuckin your road dogs The hood you threw up with, niggaz you grew up with Don't even respect your ass That's why it's time for the doctor, to check your ass, nigga Used to be my homey, used to be my ace Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth Nigga bow down to the row Fuckin me, now I'm fuckin you, little hoe Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide Let me ride, just another homicide Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on Stompin on the 'Eazy'est streets that you can walk on So strap on your Compton hat, your locs And watch your back cause you might get smoked, loc And pass the bud, and stay low-key B.
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Dre] Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin about We have your motherfuckin record company surrounded Put down the candy and let the little boy go You knowhatI'msayin, punk motherfucker We want Eazy, we want Eazy [Verse Two: Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat Your dick on hard, from fuckin your road dogs The hood you threw up with, niggaz you grew up with Don't even respect your ass That's why it's time for the doctor, to check your ass, nigga Used to be my homey, used to be my ace Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth Nigga bow down to the row Fuckin me, now I'm fuckin you, little hoe Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide Let me ride, just another homicide Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on Stompin on the 'Eazy'est streets that you can walk on So strap on your Compton hat, your locs And watch your back cause you might get smoked, loc And pass the bud, and stay low-key B. Ha, know what I'm sayin'? With ya mama and your daddy hollin' Bay-Bee So won't they let you know That if you fuck with Dre nigga you're fuckin wit Death Row And I ain't even slangin them thangs I'm hollin' one-eight-seven with my dick in yo mouth, beeyatch [Interlude:
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My Big Fat Dick (Say What?)

Fat dick lyrics



Description: Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat Your dick on hard, from fuckin' your road dogs The hood you threw up with, niggaz you grew up with Don't even respect your ass That's why it's time for the doctor, to check your ass, nigga Used to be my homey, used to be my ace Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth Nigga bow down to the row Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little hoe Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide Let me ride, just another homicide Yeah, it's me so I'ma talk on Stompin' on the Eazyest streets that you can walk on So strap on your Compton hat, your locs And watch your back cause you might get smoked, loc And pass the bud, and stay low-key B. Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat Your dick on hard, from fuckin your road dogs The hood you threw up with, niggaz you grew up with Don't even respect your ass That's why it's time for the doctor, to check your ass, nigga Used to be my homey, used to be my ace Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth Nigga bow down to the row Fuckin me, now I'm fuckin you, little hoe Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide Let me ride, just another homicide Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on Stompin on the 'Eazy'est streets that you can walk on So strap on your Compton hat, your locs And watch your back cause you might get smoked, loc And pass the bud, and stay low-key B. Dre] Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin about We have your motherfuckin record company surrounded Put down the candy and let the little boy go You knowhatI'msayin, punk motherfucker We want Eazy, we want Eazy [Verse Two: Yeah, Mista Busta, where the fuck ya at?

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