[Intro]
Ay Snoop Dogg
Ay ay ay Snoop Dogg~!
We the people, wanna know
what's it like to be a boss mayne?
I mean, what's it really like to walk in yo' shoes mayne?
[Snoop Dogg]
(Yo!) This ain't no cake walk nigga
Your cuz keep it pimpin man I made y'all niggaz
(Yo!) The game played you niggaz
I'm 19 in, kush and a Swisher
(Yo!) Cash by the bundles and bundles at wholesale
No bail the feds tryin to give me mo' jail
But I'm a superstar, ridin in my super car
Ponytail swangin, gangbangin, lookin super hard
(Yo!) I wake up every day and blow a zip
Count grams, contraband on my HIP
Outstanding with my pimp hand, handing me my GRIP
Outlandish on my tip like nigga this Crip
(Yo!) The bouelvard star, red carpet walker
So +Famous+, feelin like +Amos+
Fuck the police, one time cain't contain us
I'm rich as a motherfucker ain't I? Ain't I?
(Yo!) I'm the boss and you know dat
Send two I send 'bout fo' back, dead
(Yo!) Don't let the names do you wrong
I'm so involved with the heat I need meds
(Yo!) My whole life is like a video
I make good music like really doe
Standin on my own two, lookin at you suckers, what'chu gon' do?
{*shhhhhh*} Ballin ain't a thing that's what I'm gon' do
(Yo!) Back at 'em, the 'llac with a chandelier
with a +Foxy+ bitch, I call her Pam Grier
(Yo!) This my part of town, you can't stand here
You say you gangster? The Runners gettin ran here
Chop 'em up, sit 'em down, please don't disturb the Dogg
Ain't worth the call, shit I ain't even heard of y'all
The nerve of y'all, to face what you cain't see
I don't give a fuck who went down, she he ain't me
(Yo!) Khakis creased, All Stars, blue barette
So much money on him shit the city tried to sue the set
Boss Dogg, here I go, hoggin in my own lane
In 1988, I was cookin up the whole thang
(Yo!) And now I'm involved with slangin raps
Million dollar deals, movies and countin stacks
The critics try to fight the facts
But I'm loved everywhere, go and fight that
(Yo!) I think they love it when I'm trippin
That pop shit make it hard to listen
(Yo!) But when it sounds like this
It make a nigga wanna pop his clip in, now listen
(Yo!) Turn that beat up, that bass got 'em feelin froggy
Quit your talk, I got homies bigger than John Coffey
(Yo!) And they'll tear this whole place up
Got gangsters puttin on makeup, ya dig?
(Yo!) The West coast king is on his shit again
They in panic like "How do we get rid of him?"
The answer is you cain't
And even if you could, then motherfucker you ain't
Beitch~! (Yo!)
compositores: CALVIN BROADUS, CHRISTOPHER GHOLSON
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