Hey, yo whassup? My name is Dre Can I blaze some chronic witchu?...
Hey, yo whassup? My name is Dre Can I blaze some chronic witchu? N***a what? FO' SHO'! Roll that shit up! Hell yeah, still "Alwayz Into Somethin'" Heart still in Compton The comp can't oppose, dope Cali platinum classicals Introduced you to my Doggs, that don't love hoes And Firm Fiascoes - assholes F**ked you up with my last video, tuxed up Doing a tango And cash, always in my grasp Came up in the game wearin khakis not kangols, stranglin' hoes When asked about it in most interviews I just laugh Now I vacate with hoes with a gang of ass One feed me mangoes, the other lightin my hash Rap tabloids write Dre's light in the ass (what?) Came home uptight, ready to mash Like a gas pedal, get on that sixty-four Chevy level AK-47 heavy metal Who say Dre ain't ghetto? Just whistle like a tea kettle I throw three at you, tell me if you see devils Cause we rebels over here, I smell Chronic in the air That means we takin over this year You hear? Light Speed, blazin Chronic through the galaxy Hydro, doja, chocolate thai weed Or we might be sippin on gin or Hennessey F**k that, where that new shit, The Chronic Iced Teas I hang among hustlers, I slang and hoo-bang Bronson When bustaz roll through, can't f**k with my bold crew We will hold you captive and bust Cause gangbangin is the active, activity Where I be livin B, there ain't no Liberty Statue Hope you got your gat, don't let them catch you Slippin, without yours, it's warfare outdoors Ambulance, violent uproars Trash n***as takin out like chores I meet whores on tours Jeans hot as pepper so I sip, champagne on stormy shores We on some hardcore, pornographic Toting Austrian firearms that's made out of plastic In these drastic surroundings, it be sounding like Lebanon Makin' fools "RETREAT!" like Megatron and Starscream Oh yeah I scream-on-stars To get loot and crossover like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar Get out your car son, that's how I came to bougie n***as At bar one, it's either that or make front page stardom I'm the Golden Child, chased by Sodom Newenze gots my bulletproof, it's hard to shoot me you hear? That means it's real f**kin hard to shoot me, you hear? Light Speed, blazin Chronic through the galaxy Hydro, doja, chocolate thai weed Or we might be sippin on gin or Hennessey F**k that, where that new shit, The Chronic Iced Teas
writers: YOUNG, ANDRE ROMELL/BAILEY, BRIAN ANTHONY
copyright: Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Royalty Network
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