Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Vocals
Hittman
Hittman
Vocals
Ms. Roq
Ms. Roq
Vocals
Camara Kambon
Camara Kambon
Keyboards
John Carpenter
John Carpenter
Sampled Artist
Mike Elizondo
Mike Elizondo
Bass Guitar
Scott Storch
Scott Storch
Keyboards
Traci Nelson
Traci Nelson
Background Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Songwriter
Ms. Roq
Ms. Roq
Songwriter
Raquel Weaver
Raquel Weaver
Songwriter
Brian Bailey
Brian Bailey
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Producer
Mel-Man
Mel-Man
Producer
Richard "Segal" Huredia
Richard "Segal" Huredia
Mixing Engineer
Brian Gardner
Brian Gardner
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

When darkness be closin' in I motivate, with the howlin' wind With a list of chosen men, frozen in sin Knowin' that your end is beginnin', swift silent and deadly There's no defending my plots, I know your every movement For six months I watch, could've got you at your baby's mother's house Even at your down-low weed spot But the backdrop, wasn't flatterin' enough I didn't want people gatherin' and stuff Snapshots of blood splatterin' from the snuff Here, puff this cig', while I figure which way, to split yo' wig Right now you as nervous, as a Farmer John pig As I dig into my tragic bag, take out the HK Twist on the silencer, insert the 30 shot mag Bullet stuck to his brain like a magnet Skull in fragments, I leave the cleanup to Dragnet This is anybody (murderer) To fuckin' everybody (murderer) Nigga all y'all (murderer) Uh, uh, for real, you'll fuck around and get killed This is anybody (murderer) Motherfuckin' everybody (murderer) Uh, yeah, nigga all y'all (murderer) Uh, uh, for real, you'll fuck around and get killed Peeped all the stash drop and exchange of the dough Lurkin' through the turf, thinkin' how much it's worth Give 'em chase to the crib and yo' he properly laced Stepped out the car, put my steel, to the side of his face Murder is the fuckin' case, rob this nigga and shake The fuckin' spot 'cause in a few it's gon' be crawlin' with cops Who's the bad bitch now, you crept on, paid the piper Who'd've thought a sexy bitch could be a murderous sniper Detrimental to your health, should've learned yo' lesson But it's too late nigga, bye-bye, better count yo' blessings I been watchin' you watchin' me, yeah, you ballin' Was, nigga now you finger-fucked and steady fallin' A thug wit' no love, but bitch niggas die fast Thug niggas die young, oh, what you thought you would last? Blast two shots to the dome, slide back to the pad And jack my nigga off, 'til his dick get soft Resume the wifey boo shit, 'cause yo, my man don't know That his bitch is straight ill, servin' ass with po'-po' I'm a motherfuckin' (murderer) Bitch, this is anybody (murderer) Yeah, nigga all y'all (murderer) Uh, uh, for real, you'll fuck around and get killed I'm a motherfuckin' (murderer) Uh, bitch this is anybody (murderer) Yeah, nigga all y'all (murderer) Uh, uh, for real, you'll fuck around and get killed
Writer(s): Andre Romell Young, Brian Anthony Bailey, Raquel Denise Weaver Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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