| Ride, ride
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| Rough, ride on, ride on
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| Roll on, roll on
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| What!, what!, what!
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| Ride on, ride on, roll on
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| Nigga what!, w-w-what!, what!, w-w-what!
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| Ride on
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| This is the game you wanna spit to a nigga
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| Let a nigga know it’s all right, cascades
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| And G’z stompin' on niggas like parades
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| Escapades and charades played
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| When the stampede stopped
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| And it continuously Young Gotti
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| Seen so many bodies
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| Drop fours hop classics and drastic measures
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| Principle’s a pleasure and penal endeavours
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| Whatever the case, whatever case, it’s caught on a chase
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| When a chase, it began in the facial of race
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| Me and Fred, he make beats, I make rhymes
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| And Snoop, he controls and calculates
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| Impervious moves, the Pound Pentagon
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| Wit a pistols, I holla where the gangstas' at
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| Daz poppin' his coller, nigga sweet and sour
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| Pop Chucks and collers, rollin' through the streets in my '84 Impala
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| Holla, holla, if you wanna
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| We gon' run it from the co’na, it’s the killa Califo’nia
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| Ya see, I do it to ya
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| Cause I know it screw ya, ya try up do us
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| But you can’t cause you lovin' this beat
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| Uh, uh… we dump, dump to make you pump, pump
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| We comin' wit the heat to make ya trunk bump
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| Freddy said he had a whole a gritty down to go steady
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| And stick up Eddie for his fedy and bring it all back to daddy
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| I want bread, cheese now put it on the patty
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| Knick Knack style, kick back and flip files
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| In the verge, on now listen now honey child
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| Bow Wow, do ya now, how ya like it doggystyle?
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| Smile and grinnin', sippin' on some gin’n
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| Roll wit a cap and ya all strapped in
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| Once ya back in, it’s straight mackin'
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| I keep it crackin'
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| This is how we all get down
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| Bring back that «G» shit fo' me!
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| I know I slept you, kept ya, fin’na fetch ya
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| Snatch ya back too, slapped you and rapped too
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| The vacuum sat 'chu and rat packed you, act two
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| Now what must I do, to get you back
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| To the way is used to see, D-P-G-C'ology
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| I’m not talkin' 'bout chemistry or biology
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| This «G"'ology, you feelin' me
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| Niggas be killin' me and willin' me
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| Silly he, thinkin' y’all gon' smash on me
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| Blast on me, the audacity
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| I’ll take ya back to the ol' skool and let ya cut class wit me
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| Get some ass wit me
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| Then get us somethin' to drink and let you sip out the same glass as me
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| And now you a killa
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| And it was all over weed and a tall can of milla, illa
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| Kill a nigga like a flea
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| Bigg Snoopy D-O double gizzle
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| Way off tha hizzle my nizzle
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| I hit niggas and bitches if you fuck wit my mental
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| Cause I’m a killa and stick release ya pop like a pimple
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| If you don’t got my money I suggest you run
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| Cause the Gold Loc, he do you like a 20 or done
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| Ain’t no fun the way I play, nigga I plays fo' keeps
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| No details you’ve just been sweeped to sweep
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| Locations, directions, not even a trace
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| Bitch I doubt it, if ya body get found like waste
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| In the alley, killa Cali, this Eastsidaz Crips
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| Never slip, set trip, and smoke chronic dip
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| Cuz!
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| Snoop Doggy Dogg has to give it to ya
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| Fredwreck got the reefers bumpin' through ya
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| Goldie Loc can put the G and the C
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| Wit Kurupt Young Gotti from the D-P-G
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| Bitch
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| Hey! |