Mista Busta, where the fuck ya at?
Toe to toe, Tim M-U-T
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Luke, can eat a fat dick
Breakin' all you suckaz off somethin' real proper like
Straight up, really doe
Play, with my bone would ya Timmy
Step on up now, we ain't no motherfuckin'
Don't even respect your ass
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Yeah
And pass the bud, and stay low-key
You tryin' to check my homey, you better check yo self
Mighty, mighty D R yeah, motherfucker
Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little hoe
And I ain't even slangin' them thangs
Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about
The sounds of a dog brings me to another day
With my nuts on ya tonsils
Yeah
It don't stop, punishing punk motherfuckers real quick like
Long Beach in the motherfuckin' house
Compton style nigga, Doggy Dogg in the motherfuckin' house
Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat
You know what I'm sayin'?
Animosity, made ya speak but ya spoke
The hood you threw up with, niggaz you grew up with
You know what I'm sayin'? Punk motherfucker
Or though I was a mark 'cause I used to hang with Eazy
And I'ma snatch your ass from the backside
Together on this motherfucker
Let me ride, just another homicide
You get with Doggy Dogg oh is he crazy?
So won't they let you know
Gap teeth in ya mouth so my dick's gots to fit
So strap on your Compton hat, your locs
If it ain't another ho that I gots ta fuck with
Publishers: BRIDGEPORT MUSIC INC, SOUTHFIELD MUSIC INC.
Stompin' on the Eazy'est streets that you can walk on
So you wanna pop that shit
Yeah nigga, Compton and Long Beach
Then we gon' creep to South Central
Now you might not understand me
Yeah, nine-deuce, Dr. Dre, dropin' chronic once again
Busta Musta, thought I was sleazy
Joke so remember the name
Luke's bendin' over, so Luke's gettin' fucked
Your bark was loud, but your bite wasn't vicious
It seems like you're good for makin' jokes about your jimmy
I heard she was the 'Frisco Dyke
To show you how Death Row pull off that who ride
But fuck your mama, I'm talkin' about you and me
Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on
We have your motherfuckin' record company surrounded
That's why it's time for the Doctor, to check your ass, nigga
And them rhymes you were kickin' were quite bootylicious
Spot him, got him, as I pulls out my strap
Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide
And watch your back 'cause you might get smoked, loc
Songwriters: Cordozar Broadus, George Jr Clinton, Garry M Shider, David L Spradley, Andre R Young
Your dick on hard, from fuckin' your road dogs
Now understand this my nigga Dre can't be touched
You fucked wit me, now it's a must that I fuck wit you
Now call it what you want to
That if you fuck with Dre nigga you're fuckin' wit Death Row
Death Row's in the motherfuckin' house
I'm hollin' one-eight-seven with my dick in yo mouth, beotch
Ay yo Dre, whattup? Check this nigga off loc
On a Street Knowledge mission, as I steps in the temple
Used to be my homey, used to be my ace
With ya mama and your daddy hollin' Bay-Bee
Tim Dog can eat a big fat dick
Yeah, hell yeah, know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, Eazy-E Eazy-E Eazy-E can eat a big fat dick
B.G. 'cause you lost all your homeys love
'Cause I'ma rob you in Compton and blast you in Miami
Got my chrome to the side of his White Sox hat
Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house
While ya on stage rappin' at your wack-ass concerts
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Get yo motherfuckin' cranium cracked nigga
But here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like
'Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, motherfucker
All these sucka ass niggaz can eat a fat dick
Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth
Make you bow down to the row
Put down the candy and let the little boy go