(feat. Kurupt)
[Kurupt (Drunken Master) {Both}]
"Drunken Master. Uh-huh-huh-huh-huh."
("Yeah, n***a. Uh. Uh.")
"You know what? Yeah, this Kurupt, young Gotti. Dogg Pound-like gangsta
Assa**in. Numba one."
("Drunkenstyle, baby. C'mon.")
"Huh? It's like this, homie."
We don't stop. We pop glocks
We got nots. We clock knocks
I bust shots. I'm raw dog
Kurupt's a hog. O-G for the dogs!
"Uh! Uh. It's like that, ch'all!"
("It's goin' down. Let's get some freestyle sh** in here.")
"Y-Y-Yeah! It's like that, n***a."
All my g**nin' homeboys throw it up. I'ma blow it up
Make the spot flame. You don't know my name?
I'ma tell ya somethin', homie. You know the game?
I don't got no strain, no type of stress
I protects myself wit' the Smif-to the-Wes
Westside, n***a. Rida for life!
Dogg Pound Gangsta, you know my wife
And d-dough, I come through and blaze the weed though
Drop n***as down all the time. Dogg Pound all the time
When you see me bust a rhyme, believe it's nice
Ignite mics, homie. I'm cold as ice
And I'm percise like shots at point blank
These n***as wanna come through? They get ganked!
My homeboy Drunken Master said,
{'Ayyo, Kurupt, you gotta bust 'em}
{Leave that ba*tard dead, n***a.'}
So indeed I had to co*k my heat
Bust two shots, lay him flat in his seat
Make his homegirl holla, then I bust her in bed
Everybody know I bust rhymes, I come from the head
I'ma leave 'em all dead and you heard what I said
Make 'em bleed 'til they bled, when you see me in red,
n***a, best believe I'm bleedin'
'cause the only color I blue is blue and you know it's true,
It's true. And, n***a, what I do is I ride
Dogg Pound Gangsta, homicidal vibes, n***a
My heart pounds, everybody lay it down
You look around. Bustin' everybody on the ground
And if you got money, I'm in your pockets. Strip 'em off
I get it right. b**hes get it off
The sideline to ride. Homicidal indeed
Kurupt, I run through and I blaze the weed
Super Fire in the back and the D-A-Z,
And my homeboy, the S-N-double O-P
Now we don't stop. We pop glocks
("It's all your fault.")
We clock knocks. Rock non-stop
("No hoe, no salt.")
You just a b**h and b**hes eat dick,
Also you know that b**hes ain't sh**
See, I rock rhymes the drop of a dime
I'm one-of-a-kind. Line-for-line
A Dogg Pound Gangsta, you know me
K-U-R-U-P-T, D-P-G-C
[Drunken Master]
Check it out. Drunken Master in the house chasin' cash wit' Kurupt and Daz
It ain't my fault if I blast on yo' busta a**
Drunkenstyle, n***a, time to put it down
Professional Chedda Chasers ridin' wit' Tha Dogg Pound
Bustin' off shots, headed for the weed spot
On your block bumpin' underground Pac, n***a
Pissy drunk, don't make me pop the trunk
Ayyo, Kurupt! Put the weed in the blunt
So we can bring the ruckus to these gangsta hatin' b**hes
Drunken Master on the road to the riches
Snitches catch slugs when they ride down my block
Ayyo, Kurupt, tell these n***as what you got
[Kurupt (Kurupt's voice sampled)]
I got sixteen mothaf**in' M-16's
Fifteen nine millimeters with beams
Fifteen mothaf**in' MACK-11's
And mini-macks too, n***a. b**h little n***a
Punk mothaf**a
(B-b**h little n***a. Punk-
Punk mothaf**a. B-b**h little n***a
b**h little-b**h little-b**h little n***a
Punk mothaf**a. B-b**h little n***a
b**h little-b**h little-b**h little n***a)