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lirik lagu for all my niggaz & bitches – sn00p d0ggg

[verse 1: kurupt]
well, it’s that slow flow, d*o*double*g, n*gga!
see these other fools, but you can’t see me, n*gga!
who am i? (it’s kurupt, m*th*f*cka!)
do or die (we gives a f*ck, m*th*f*cka!)
so slow yo’ roll, i’m in control like janet
the loc*est twenty*one year old n*gga that’s on this planet
take it for granted, if ya wanna
’cause i’m gonna grab my strap then clear the corner, biatch!!

[verse 2: dat n*gga daz]
now, on a one (one), two (two), three (three), who could it be?
comin’ wit’ a grip of gangsta sh*t for ’93
so ’94’s arrived, n*gga, back on up
and let me and my dogg kurupt f*ck sh*t up
now, can’t n0body see me here or there
wherever i bails, i put it down all around, ’cause ain’t sh*t for sale
in the coupe wit’ the beat, flossin’ off gold d’s
and my cousin snoop packs well, you know what i mean
and it don’t take much, for tha dogg pound to bust a cap
in yo’ ass, for gettin’ us all f*cked up
now check it, it’s a callin’ for n*ggas like doggs
who supposed to be the sh*t, but steadily b*tchin’ like hoes
(yes, y’all) other doggs, (yes, y’all) yiggy y’all
stay full of that gin and juice, and have a ball
chorus: dat n*gga daz & lil’ malik]
to all my b*tches and my n*ggas, and my n*ggas and my b*tches
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air
and if you don’t give a sh*t like we don’t give a sh*t
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ fingers in the air
to all my n*ggas and my b*tches, and my b*tches and my n*ggas
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air
and if you don’t give a f*ck like we don’t give a f*ck
keep your m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air

[verse 3: kurupt]
i packs a strap like that, i kicks it like this
now, how many b*tches must get d*cked?
befo’ they say, “oh, that is that n*gga from back in the day
i never, ever thought i’d see him bustin’ with dr. dre”
’cause i grips mics, i rips mics in half
hoes be comin’ to my flat so i can tap that ass

[chorus: dat n*gga daz & lil’ malik]
to all my b*tches and my n*ggas, and my n*ggas and my b*tches
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air
and if you don’t give a sh*t like we don’t give a sh*t
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ fingers in the air
to all my n*ggas and my b*tches, and my b*tches and my n*ggas
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air
and if you don’t give a f*ck like we don’t give a f*ck
keep yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air
[verse 4: kurupt & (dat n*gga daz)]
you’re headed my way, n*gga, you best to hit a u*turn quick
so what’s happenin’? i’m cappin’ sh*t up like a western fl!ck
the kingpin of tha clique, top notch
17 shot glock c*cked, so all n*gga drop!
the run of the mill, fool get broke off for tryin’ to serve the best
kurupt’s era, peep the terror, ’cause it’s a murder fest!
i smoke chronic every day, so what have we?
another m*th*f*cka gettin’ served like some cavi
now who, drops (ruff rhymes), i got the juice like 2pac
(plus i’m..) rollin’ wit’ two glocks
fly m*th*f*ckaz can’t see kurupt
h*llraisin’ like pinhead, beware i’m tearin’ sh*t the f*ck up!
slow yo’ roll, like your legs was broken
who’s jokin’? rakim never joked, so why should i, loc?
and that’s my idol, check the vital rhyme flow doe
runnin’ ’em like flo jo, stranded on death row
mediocre m*th*f*ckaz die ’cause i’m servin’
and they can’t f*ck wit’ or see me, i’m mass*murderous
(smokin’ indo, look out my window i suppose) yeah
(n*ggas don’t understand how we kicks diffrent flows
i’m raw like news footage) i’m rugged like a bf goodrich
(bring yo’ whole set and get yo’ hood lynched)
(drop to yo’ knees like a dog in heat)
peep the murderous styles and the poetical techniques
[chorus: dat n*gga daz & lil’ malik]
to all my b*tches and my n*ggas, and my n*ggas and my b*tches
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air
and if you don’t give a sh*t like we don’t give a sh*t
keep yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ fingers in the air
to all my n*ggas and my b*tches and my b*tches and my n*ggas
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air
and if you don’t give a f*ck like we don’t give a f*ck
keep yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ fingers in the air

[verse 5: lady of rage]
check it out, it’s rage! ready for the breakdown, take down
when it comes to the mic, i’m puttin’ my weight down
and that’s 175 pounds of beef
beatin’ yo’ ass down to the concrete
fool, act like ya know
i’m stranded on death row wit’ nowhere to go
so, what’s a girl to do?
take out a crew or two, a few, what you wanna do?

[outro: snoop dogg, (tha dogg pound) and dat n*gga daz]
throw yo’ guns in the motherf*ckin air, we don’t care
(n*ggas don’t give a f*ck, n*gga!)
about nuthin’ at all, just my doggs and clockin the grip’, b*tch!
(n*ggas don’t give a f*ck, n*gga!)
that’s why i can kick it so tuff, ’cause when times get ruff, my..
(n*ggas don’t give a f*ck, n*gga!)
the clique that i’m wit’ don’t give a sheeit, ya know why?
(real n*ggas don’t give a f*ck!)

now all the b*tches, and the n*ggas
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air
to all my n*ggas, and my b*tches
wave yo’our m*th*f*ckin hands in the air
to all my n*ggas, and my b*tches
wave yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ hands in the air
and if you don’t give a f*ck like we don’t give a f*ck
keep yo’ m*th*f*ckin’ fingers in the air

- sn00p d0ggg

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