Gin And Juice

(Ugh) ha-ha-ha, I'm serious, nigga
One of y'all niggas got some bad motherfuckin' breath
(Oh, man) ay, baby, ay, baby, (shit) ay, baby
Get some bubblegum in this motherfucker or somethin'
Aye, nigga, get somethin' to eat, dog
Aye, nigga, study long, study wrong, nigga

With so much drama in the L-B-C
It's kinda hard bein' Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin' up with funky ass shit like every single day
May I kick a lil' something for the G's? (Yeah)
And, make a few ends as I breeze through (yeah)
Two in the mornin' and the party's still jumpin'
'Cause my momma ain't home

I got bitches in the livin' room gettin' it on
And, they ain't leavin' 'til six in the mornin' (six in the mornin', six in the morning)
So what you wanna do?
Shit, I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too
So turn off the lights and close the doors
But, but what? We don't love them hoes (yeah)
So we gon' smoke a ounce to this
G's up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
(With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind)
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
(With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind)

Now that I got me some Seagram's gin
Everybody got they cups, but they ain't chipped in
Now this type of shit happens all the time
You got to get yours but, fool, I gotta get mine
Everything is fine when you listenin' to the D-O-G
I got the cultivating music that be captivating he
Who listens, to the words that I speak

As I take me a drink to the middle of the street
And get to mackin' to this bitch named Sadie (Sadie?)
She used to be the homeboys lady (oh, that bitch?)
80 degrees, when I tell that bitch "Please"
Raise up off these N-U-T's, 'cause you gets none of these
At ease, as I mob with the Dogg Pound, feel the breeze
Biatch, I'm just

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
(With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind)
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
(With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind)

Later on that day, my homie
Dr. Dre came through with a gang of Tanqueray
And a fat ass J of some bubonic chronic
That made me choke, shit, this ain't no joke
I had to back up off of it and sit my cup down
Tanqueray and chronic, yeah, I'm fucked up now

But it ain't no stoppin', I'm still poppin'
Dre got some bitches from the city of Compton
To serve me, not with a cherry on top
'Cause when I bust my nut, I'm raisin' up off the cot
Don't get upset girl, that's just how it goes
I don't love you hoes, I'm out the do' and I'll be

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
(With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind)
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
(With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind)

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (biatch)
(With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind)

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (biatch)
(With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind)



Credits
Writer(s): Andre Young, Daniel Webster, Steve Arrington, Steve Washington, Raymond Guy Turner, Calvin Broadus, Harry Casey, Richard Finch, Mark Adams
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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