Puffin' on Blunts and Drankin' Tanqueray [*]

Dr. Dre:Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yo yo, let's do this shit
"I thought I thaw a puddy tat"
You's a punk-ass n***a
Yo, yeah
Yo, Death Row's in the motherf**king house
Wrecking shit you know what I'm saying
This is Dr. Dre in the motherf**king house
Yo, I got my homeboys in the house
Tha Dogg Pound's definitely in here, yeah
I got my n***a Kurupt ready to wreck some shit
Yo, you know what else I got in the house?
Yo, so diggi-Daz step up on that ass
Yeah, guess what's in here?
My homegirl Rage, I said my homegirl Rage
Yeah, the lyrical motherf**king murderer's in here
Yo my n***a Glove behind the boards
Yo dropping that funky-ass bassline, yeah
You know, you know there's a lot of punk-ass n***as out there
A lot of punk-ass b***hes out there
Yo you wanna write names?
Yo that n***a Eazy-E, he's a punk-ass b***h, really though
Yo that n***a Tim M-U-T, he's a punk-ass biatch, biatch
You know what I'm saying
Oh, oh, oh Luke, I didn't forget about you, biatch
Really though
Yo, Death Row's in the motherf**king house
Running the 9-3, you know, yeah
But right about now
There's a little freestyle session going on, in the studio
We just kicking back getting f**ked up and all
You know, puffing on a few blunts
Drinking on a little bit of that Tanqueray, Tanqueray
Yeah Tanqueray's definitely in the house
You know what I'm saying
Cause I'm feeling it baby
I'm feeling it, really though
So-a, right about now, aiyyo Rage
Yo Rage, yo run that shit G
Lady of Rage:Always and forever, forever and always
The rhythm will flow from now and through all days
As long as the sun shines
As long as Eisenhower's on the dime
Yo, I'll be kicking the rhyme
One time for your mind, your soul, your body
The OG's on the side of me
Smooth as E & J, hard as Bacardi
Smacking those yaddy-yacks ducks that keep quacking
Hens that are cackling, end up crackling
Under the heat, the pressure from the one that's deffer
Egyptian ruler, call me Cleo or Nefertiti, yes indeedy
Got the eyes that are beady, body from Tahiti
Voice of the wind lyrics, blow
Chills up your spine I send, so
All thoughts in your mind drop 'em yo
You came in the front but you'll be kicked through the back door
If you try to step, try to come incorrect
Try to play the left, try to start a mess
Try to cause a fuss, try to raise a ruckus
Huh, you'll end up ashes to ashes, dust to dust
A busta, you musta been buggin on drugs
And alcohol back off, all a y'all, up against the wall
Spread em, Doggs - go get em
Hand-cuff em and stuff em, cold shut em, don't let em
Utter a word, not to mother or Herb
If you try you die, visions blurred, speech slurred
Served with a cherry on top
Rage in effect I just begun to rock
Yeah rock on witcha bad self (Rage)
Rock on witcha bad self (Rage)
Rock on witcha bad self (Rage)
Rock on witcha bad self
Dat N***a Daz:Yo, I'm Dat N***a Daz who packs a tre-8 slug
A true n***a from the hood and the Pound gives love
You see n***as wanna be down but never came around
So back up off my nuts and stop sweating the Pound
You see, n***as get broke off like 1, 2, 3
Cause I'm the D-A to the, D-A- to the Z
Now G'z pay attention to this young ass mack daddy
In a Caddy, had he
Not known about the city where the n***as hang around
So I roll em up, and hit em up with the motherf**king Dogg Pound
Kurupt:I'm rough and rugged, and up to do dirt
I'm from the Dogg Pound n***a so I'm putting in work
I'm no joke, who the f**k you trying to provoke
(1-8-7) It's cold how his ass got smoked
I don't drink no f**king V-S-O-P
I drink a motherf**king O.G. Olde E
I'm from the clique that be kicking the gangsta shit b***h
Real n***as real G'z with real big dicks
I hit em up with the Pound, so what you wanna throw up
Claiming you're cocaine or cavi when you blow up
Know what, the Pound's in the motherf**king house
Back again we try to get high as we can
Dr. Dre, be kicking fat rhymes and produce, and kick shit
I gets more wicked than Beetlejuice
Motherf**kers get battered, so scatter before I keep you
Hostage, a n***a hostile like the grim reaper
So, I'm coming from my hood, what hood
You really like to know, wouldn't you, I thought you knew
Motherf**ker don't you know I'm stranded on the Row
I take a look into the crowd kick a style a flow
I'm mashing, motherf**kers get murdered for asking
Relax kid, you're rollin' with a f**king assassin
I last did dirt the other day
Portray, the role of a G, from the D-O double G
P-O-U-N-D, Pound so bow bow motherf**kin' marks
The execution starts, when the Chronic is sparked
I'm like Barkley, rough and rugged, but raw like Rawhead
Rex, I flex murderous rhymes to leave you all dead
What's said is what's said, it's already spoke
The dead is the dead I ain't no f**kin' Joke
I murder motherf**kers as a hobby
One of my idols Ain't No Joke, so why in the f**k should I be
Fly me, to the Bahamas, ruff rhymer, drama's
What you're kicking, wicked is how I'm-a
Approach you, the locster, who's quick to up and smoke you
You're looking like a smoker, grinning like the joker
I yoke you from da back like a b***h talking shit
Cause a b***h ain't shit but a ho and trick, on my dick
Flip, lets take a trip to the Dogg Pound
Fools tried to punk me when I was young, but I'm a hog now
And I gets respect and I step with a Tec 9
Ready to put somethin' up in that ass so you respect mine
Fool, Death Row ain't Lynchin and the Pound ain't Mobbin
We all don't give a f**k, run in your crib and start robbing
Throbbing, I'll break a n***a down in the 90's
Maxing at the Pound wit my doggs is where you'll find me, beeotch
Dr. Dre:Heell yeaah
You n***as can't fade this shit, you know what I'm saying
Death Row's in the motherf**kin' house
The Dogg Pound's definitely in here, you knowhatI'msayin
And ay yo yo yo yo yo, you n***as can't **** with this
So don't even try it
Stay in the studio all you want, stay in the studio all you want
Cause you can't f**k with this, see ya