Warren G - This Gangsta sh** Is Too Much lyrics

(feat. Butch Ca**idy) 1, 2, 1, 2, yeah All yeah, we doing it like that We flip that, uh More in the crib Dru, yeah, D-Funk allstars Thats how we do it, G-Funk, yeah [Warren G] What's y'all thought, I wasn't gonna return with a hit Too much smokin' that Sherman sh** I learned this from the best, and got y'all sprung The, the doctor, Andre Young Compton, LB, ain't nothing y'all can tell me Going hard on the yard, 'till me dogs bailed me They tells me, I can't precede with it I came back and got ole G'd with it We get crunk, spit it when we drunk Commited to that sh**, that makes the gangstas stump Chumps can try, if they choose to to With these locs love my dogs like the Blues Clues So excuse you, I'm the reason for the fame And all of a sudden, you ain't believing in the name What? Butch Ca**idy, show 'em what we working with [Chorus: Butch Ca**idy] This gangsta sh** is too much Don't be s**as, can't touch It's working in the LBC, nonstop to the NYC Warren G, with the gangsta three's, oooh wee! [Warren G] And the win, on the 7-10 southbound Duece and gin, getting guzzled down by the mouth now Smashing a hundred in the car pool Thats the type of thing that hogs do My concern ain't the fame, I hope you know that Status: millionaire, still don't show that Go back to where I was raised On the porch is where they got braids, never not afraid To test my shot, drop a hundred dollar fade Holla, don't be a major see me in the hood Off TV, totally un-Hollywood Still to the good and you know that Still with me, still when you show that And Big Snoop Dogg we gonna blow that Still with it, we all say that we real with it Until bustas reveal, how we really did it [Chorus: Butch Ca**idy] [Warren G] So what's crackin' now Got these haters actin' now Backin' down to this gangsta sound Westcoast circus clowns It's on purpose how I spit rounds You trying to get down Abnorm with the form, swarming heated Hitting fools glocks like we got cheated Repeated simotaneously I'm bringing bangers with me So hopefully, moves can be made We can all get paid, relax in the shade Sun, snow, it really don't matter We can all make dough Eastcoast, westcoast, midwest, dirty south And big heads, is what I'm all about And big heads, is what I'm all about And big heads, is what I'm all about, fool [Chorus: Butch Ca**idy]