Tekster:
Dr Dre It S Like That

G's connect Thieves nigga direct the trees to the smoke fest Wanna take a toke? Yes, the newest zone I'm in I'm like Smithsonian nigga, fuck it call me

drop dead, was it? Or was it, cause them bitches wrote him off Little hussy ass fusses, cause f-ck it, guess it doesn't matter now, does it What difference it make? What it

4 - 50 Cent] Go shorty, it's your birthday You made it just in time to hear my wordplay It's the kid that flip flows who used to flip O's And run G for

rock, jazz, rap Not even talkin about music Everything else too By the time it reach Hollywood it's over But it's cool We just keep it goin and make new

're kidding He didn't just say what I think he did, did he?" And Dr. Dre said, nothing you idiots Dr. Dre's dead, he's locked in my basement! Feminist

real things that the hatas do I'm namin' you, shit's thick, it's time to run for shelter I kept the word, things could happen to marks Like it was helter

' dog Made that gangsta shit, like set it off Made that gangsta shit, like big money Smokin' on that hood Lights, camera, action, pose I know I'm lookin' good for these ho's, I'm like People compare me to Pac, so off top I'm like

mic and act wild Bitin' on the next nigga's mackin' style And it's all from head, passin' round the mic Never even care who you sounded like Sound like

the homeboy's lady (oh, that bitch) Eighty degrees, when I tell that chick please In a dog pound, feelin' the breeze. [Chorus] [Verse Three:] Later on that day My homey dr. dre