Dre Day

Mista Busta, where the fuck you at?
Can't scrap a lick, so I know you got your gat
Your dick on hard, from fuckin' your road dogs
The hoods you threw up with, niggas you grew up with
Don't even respect your ass
That's why it's time for the doctor, to check your ass, nigga
Used to be my homie, used to be my ace
Now I wanna slap the taste out ya mouth
Make ya bow down to the Row
Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little ho
Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide
Let me ride, just another homicide
Yeah, it's me so I'mma talk on
Stomping on the Eazy-est streets that you can't walk on
So strap on your Compton hat, your locs
And watch your back cause you might get smoked, loc
And pass the bud and stay low-key
B.G. cause you lost all your homie's love
Now call it what you want to
You fucked with me, now it's a must that I fuck with you

Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about
We have your mothafuckin' record company surrounded
Put down the candy and let the little boy go

You know what I'm sayin? Punk motherfucker
(We want Eazy! We want Eazy!)

Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Death Row's in the motherfuckin house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
The sounds of a dog brings me to another day
Play with my bone, would ya Timmy?
It seems like you're good for making jokes about your jimmy
But here's a jimmy joke about your momma that you might not like
I heard she was the 'Frisco dyke
But fuck your mama, I'm talking about you and me
Toe to toe, Tim M-U-T
Your bark was loud but your bite wasn't vicious
And them rhymes you were kicking were quite bootylicious
You get with Doggy Dogg "oh is he crazy?"
With your mama and your daddy hollering "Baby!"

So won't they let you know
That if you fuck with Dre, nigga you're fuckin' wit Death Row
And I ain't even slanging them thangs
I'm hollering 187 with my dick in your mouth, beyotch

Yeah nigga, Compton and Long Beach together on this motherfucker
So you wanna pop that shit, get your motherfuckin cranium cracked nigga
Step on up. Now, we ain't no motherfuckin joke so remember the name
Mighty, mighty D-R
Yeah, motherfucker

(Now understand this: my nigga Dre can't be touched)
Luke's bending over (Luke's getting fucked, busta)
Must've thought I was sleazy
Or thought I was a mark cause I used to hang with Eazy
(Animosity made you speak what you spoke)
(Ayo Dre) Whattup (Check this nigga off, loc)
If it ain't another ho that I gots to fuck with
Gap teeth in your mouth so my dick's gots to fit
(With my nuts on your tonsils)
(While you're onstage rapping at your wack-ass concerts)
And I'mma snatch your ass from the backside
To show you how Death Row pull off that hoo-ride
(Now you might not understand me)

Cause I'mma rob you in Compton and blast you in Miami

(Then we gonna creep to South Central)
(On a Street Knowledge mission) As I steps in the temple
Spot him, got him, as I pulls out my strap
Got my chrome to the side of his White Sox hat
(You trying to check my homey, you better check yourself)
(Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself)
Motherfucker (Yeah, nigga)

Yeah, nine-deuce
Dr. Dre, dropping chronic once again
It don't stop: punishing punk motherfuckers real quick like
Doggy Dogg in the motherfuckin house
Long Beach in the motherfuckin house
Compton style nigga, straight up, really tho
Breaking all you suckas off something real proper like
You know what I'm sayin?
All these sucka ass niggas can eat a fat dick
Yeah, Eazy-E can eat a big fat dick
Tim Dog can eat a big fat dick
Luke can eat a fat dick