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lirik lagu who got some gangsta shit – snoop dogg

(lil’ style)

nine in the mornin, feds at my door (my door)
lou cortez creakin cross the hardwood floor (right)
dippin thru the alley i made my escape
didn’t even get a chance to grab my snoop dogg tape
man with no music but happy he’s free
bailin fast as i can bail down 19th street
i got my sacks in my pocket and at least a grand
gold on my neck, my pistol’s closed in hand
i’m a dogg pound gangsta from the lbc
remotely controlled by the bomb-ity
but just livin in big city is a serious task
didn’t know what the feds wanted, didn’t have time to ask

(snoop doggy dogg)

we’re comin with that g sh*t, that c sh*t that makin n*gg*s sick
how does it feel to see a g from your clique?
wake up, jumped out of bed wit my grin on (why?)
last night’s dice game got my win on
about a g and a half is what i come with
but twenty five g’s is what i left with
*?teatley?* was the word i heard
i went deep in my pockets and threw my stars on the curb
gimme the dice so i can break you n*gg*s
i threw a c (c-i-x) so my point was the big’un
seven-four-four-tre back to back
i sent two fools back to their lizzack


see now i’m off to the graveyard shift
and i gots ta pay my dues to make my grip
but i chill cos my ho might call
ain’t no thang cos i sleeps all day and slangs at night fall
and then i takes a quick walk up the block
with my glock c*cked, ready to make a stop where i set up shop
on fifty-nina, 8th ave where all the homies be hangin
that’s where a n*gg*’ll be slangin
i’m makin a cool grip of sh*t, this ain’t me
so i put my chips together and cops a quarter ki
and now the shops on deck
and everything that’s mines i protect with a tek, i don’t half step
now i got ends
and i’m rollin a lexus, f*ck a benz, and so many new friends
but i could only trust a few
and unawarely i trusted you
but if only g knew


it’s snoop, homies from the motherf*ckin get-go
devoted and quoted, back in ’84
i was thirteen, g was a year older
but i still wadn’t afraid to throw him from his shoulders
gettin put on the hood was the antic*p*tion
and yeah, king park was the destination
every n*gg* that i knew was at the park that night
even the smokers that be levellin gettin sparked tonight

(lil’ style)

back on the streets, straight blue and grey
cos i represent like every day
n*gg* you can’t tell me i don’t be on the spot
when i can tell you all the homies that done get shot
from at least about five years ago
when i was in junior high goin to marshall
the homey use to come up to the school and rock
and leave and have the b*tches flockin his jock
d*mn them was the days of the past
but since the pizzound formed we been whippin people’s *ss
and everybody’ll blast
and if you don’t believe me n*gg* you can ask the homey daz
and that’s your *ss
f*cked around and let young swoop take your cash (ha ha)
he didn’t even run, he walked away (busta)
cos i’d live to see that day
i wished i was there i would’ve clowned
but that’s why we ax’d your b*tch *ss from the pound
cos he wouldn’t even squab back
man we can’t f*ck with no n*gg*s like that
he’ll get us all cracked
if the police was behind us, he wouldn’t even jump out with the strap
now that’s what i call a beeyatch! (beeiyitch!)
i second the emotion you was dropped the clique (yeah yeah)


some of these n*gg* are b*tches too
and some of these n*gg*s look just like you
so if you’ve ever been told on
go out and get your roll on you punk *ss n*gg*, you’ll get stole on

(dat n*gg* daz)

it’s 5:30 in the mornin, now i’m yizzawnin
now as i proceed to get g’d to a tee
and before i bail to school you know i blaze up a sack
another day, another dollar for the gangsta mack
b*tch act like you know, show me some s*x and affection
and lick me down slow, flossin, tossin a b*tch (b*tch)
yeah dogg, one more thing i forgot to mention
shoot five n*gg*s, shoot ten
shoot the piece, slip to your fiends
seven, godd*mn it, whin again
a ’64 for the honeys, straight ho for the g
young daz, little n*gg* you can’t f*ck with me


now i knew that them n*gg*s couldn’t get at you
so what made them n*gg*s try to spit at you
disrespect a gang that snitch on you
y’all punk *ss n*gg*s, man y’all some b*tches too

(young swoop)

who got some gangsta gangsta sh*t? (ha ha)
swoop g, i heard somebody’s speakin up on me
cos when i drop mines there was no more nickels and dimes
just bouldas, ounces, half ounces and quarter
pieces is the season and i don’t smoke blunt
it sees the indo with skunk, i might as well get drunk
to smoke some stress, that sh*t’ll put a hole in your chest
i only want another twenty dollar, sure got me f*cked up
my hood is gettin hot and n*gg*s is tryin ta plot and
come up off a young n*gg* callin shots
swoop g ain’t the one, i do its to be done (aah)
al-ways have my gun and my g from 2-1
it’s cerritos but you don’t hear me though cos you don’t really know
about the you-know, i’m cerritos, silly ho
swoop g by the f*ckin l-b-c
none of these n*gg* wanna f*ck with these (aah)
swoop g, swoop g, g

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