| One, two, three and to the fo'
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| Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre is at the do'
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| Ready to make an entrance, so back on up
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| ('Cause you know about to rip shit up)
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| Gimme the microphone first, so I can bust like a bubble
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| Compton and Long Beach together, now you know you in trouble
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| Ain't nothin' but a "G" thang, baby!
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| Two loc'ed out niggas so we're crazy!
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| Death Row is the label that pays me!
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| Unfadeable, so please don't try to fade this (Hell yeah)
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| But uh, back to the lecture at hand
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| Perfection is perfected, so I'ma let 'em understand
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| From a young G's perspective
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| And before me dig out a bitch I have ta' find a contraceptive
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| You never know she could be earnin' her man
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| And learnin' her man, and at the same time burnin' her man
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| Now you know I ain't with that shit, Lieutenant
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| Ain't no pussy good enough to get burnt while I'm up in it
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| (Yeah) And that's realer than Real-Deal Holyfield
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| And now you hooka's and ho's know how I feel
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| Well if it's good enough to get broke off a proper chunk
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| I'll take a small piece of some of that funky stuff
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| It's like this and like that and like this and uh
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| It's like that and like this and like that and uh
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| It's like this and like that and like this and uh
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| Dre, creep to the mic like a phantom
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| Well I'm peepin', and I'm creepin', and I'm creep-in
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| But I damn near got caught, 'cause my beeper kept beepin'
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| Now it's time for me to make my impression felt
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| So sit back, relax, and strap on your seatbelt
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| You never been on a ride like this before
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| With a producer who can rap and control the maestro
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| At the same time with the dope rhyme that I kick
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| You know, and I know, I flow some ol' funky shit
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| To add to my collection, the selection
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| Symbolizes dope, take a toke, but don't choke
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| If you do, you'll have no clue
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| On what me and my homey Snoop Dogg came to do
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| It's like this and like that and like this and uh
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| It's like that and like this and like that and uh
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| It's like this
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| And who gives a f*ck about hoes?
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| So just chill, til the next episode
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| Fallin' back on that ass, with a hellified gangsta lean
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| Gettin' funky on the mic like a ol' batcha' collard greens
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| It's the capital S, oh yes I'm fresh, N double-O P
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| D O double-G Y, D O double-G, ya see
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| Showin' much flex when it's time to wreck a mic
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| Pimpin' hoes and clockin' a grip like my name was Dolomite
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| Yeah, and it don't quit
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| I think they in the mood for some motherfuckin' G shit
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| (Hell yeah) So Dre, (What up Dog?)
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| Gotta give 'em what they want (What's that, G?)
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| We gotta break 'em off somethin' (Hell yeah)
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| And it's gotta be bumpin' (City of Compton!)
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| It's where it takes place, so when asked, yo' attention
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| Mobbin' like a motherfucker, but I ain't lynchin'
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| Droppin' the funky shit that's makin' the sucker niggas mumble
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| When I'm on the mic, it's like a cookie, they all crumble
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| Try to get close, and your ass'll get smacked
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| My motherfuckin' homie Doggy Dogg has got my back
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| Never let me slip, 'cause if I slip, then I'm slippin'
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| But if I got my Nina, then you know I'm straight trippin'
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| And I'ma continue to put the rap down, put the mack down
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| And if yo bitches talk shit, I'll have to put the smack down
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| Yeah, and you don't stop
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| I told you I'm just like a clock when I tick and I tock
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| But I'm never off, always on, to the break of dawn
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| C-O-M-P-T-O-N, and the city they call Long Beach
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| Puttin' the shit together
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| Like my nigga D.O.C., "No One Can Do It Better"
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| Like this, that and this and uh
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| It's like that and like this and like that and uh
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| It's like this
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| And who gives a f*ck about hoes?
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| So just chill, 'til the next episode |