*Pouring Liquor* Heah hah hah! I'm serious nigga one of y'all niggaz got this ass motherfuckin up Aiy baby, aiy baby... aiy baby get some bubblegum in this motherfucker Steady long, steady long nigga
Verse One: Snoop
With so much drama in the L-B-C It's kinda hard bein Snoop D-O-double-G But I, somehow, some way Keep comin up with funky ass shit like every single day May I, kick a little something for the G's (yeah) and, make a few ends as (yeah!) I breeze, through Two in the mornin and the party's still jumpin cause my momma ain't home I got bitches in the living room gettin it on and, they ain't leavin til six in the mornin (six in the mornin) So what you wanna do, sheeeit I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too So turn off the lights and close the doors But (but what) we don't love them hoes, yeah! So we gonna smoke a ounce to this G's up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this
Chorus: repeat 2x
Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice Laid back [with my mind on my money and my money on my mind]
Verse Two:
Now, that, I got me some Seagram's gin Everybody got they cups, but they ain't chipped in Now this types of shit, happens all the time You got to get yours but fool I gotta get mine Everything is fine when you listenin to the D-O-G I got the cultivating music that be captivating he who listens, to the words that I speak As I take me a drink to the middle of the street and get to mackin to this bitch named Sadie (Sadie?) She used to be the homeboy's lady (Oh, that bitch) Eighty degrees, when I tell that bitch please Raise up off these N-U-T's, cause you gets none of these At ease, as I mob with the Dogg Pound, feel the breeze beeeitch, I'm just
Chorus
Verse Three:
Later on that day My homey Dr. Dre came through with a gang of Tanqueray And a fat ass J, of some bubonic chronic that made me choke Shit, this ain't no joke I had to back up off of it and sit my cup down Tanqueray and chronic, yeah I'm fucked up now But it ain't no stoppin, I'm still poppin Dre got some bitches from the city of Compton To serve me, not with a cherry on top Cause when I bust my nut, I'm raisin up off the cot Don't get upset girl, that's just how it goes I don't love you hoes, I'm out the do' And I'll be
Chorus
Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice (beeotch!!) Laid back [with my mind on my money and my money on my mind] Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice (beeotch!!) Laid back [with my mind on my money and my money on my mind]
Compositores: Harry Wayne Casey (K.c.), Richard Raymond Finch (Finch Richard), Stephen C Washington, Andre Romell Young (Dr Dre), Daniel Webster (Bookman Styles), Raymond Guy Turner, Steven R Arrington (Steve Arrington), Calvin Cordazor Broadus (Calvin Broadus), Mark L Adams (Adam Eve) ECAD: Obra #10050548 Fonograma #1018603