DR DRE

Artist: Dr. Dre f/ Snoop Doggy Dogg

Album: The Chronic

Song: Lil' Ghetto Boy

Verse One: Snoop Doggy Dogg

Wake up, jumped out my bed Hung in a 2 man cell wit my homie Lil 1/2 Dead

Murder was the case that they gave me Dear God, I wonder can you save me

I'm only 18, so I'm a young buck It's a ride, if I don't scrap, I'm getting stuck

But that's the life of a G, I guess Ese's way deep, shanked two in they chest

Bests run 'cause brothers is dropping quicker Ugn, too late, damn, down goes another nigga

Bouncing off the walls, throwing them dogs Getting a rep as a young hog

It ain't nuttin like the street life Betta be strapped wit yo clip, cuz ain't no fist fight

So I guess I gots ta handle mine Since I did the crime, I gots ta do my time

Chorus:

Lil' ghetto boy Playing in the ghetto streets

What'cha gonna do when you grow up

And have to face responsibility

Verse Two: Dr. Dre

Now, I'm 'trolling the dove, sitting on swoll 27 years old, off on parole, stroll

I'm back up on my feet wit my mind on the money That I'm making as soon as I touch the street

Things done changed but it's alright Remember they used to thump but now they blast, right

But it ain't no thing to meCause now I'm what they call a loced-assed O.G.

The little homies from the hood wit grip Are the ones I get wit 'cause I'm down respect trip

Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so what'cha wanna do Didn't know we had a 22

Straight sitting behind his back I'm grab his pockets and then I heard six caps

I fell to the ground wit blood on my hands I didn't understand

How a nigga so young could bust a cap I use to be the same way back

I guess that's what I get (for what) For trying to jack them little homies for they bread

Chorus

Verse Three: Snoop Doggy Dogg

Something for the real OG's to get wit Some facts, made our made, now you wanna run and play

Like every single day, really doe You know me, I'm the smooth macadamien, gaming

them for my homie No need to be uncalm if you pack right

And learning just enuff to keep your sack right Late nights, I wonder what they getting fo'

Early morning on the corners, what they hitting fo' Seven young G's but they serve down

In a jeep ride, east side what they swerve now Not thinking about what's really going on

Got crept on, stepped on, now they gone I spent 4 years in the county wit nutting but

convicts around me But now I'm back at the poundAnd we expose ways for the youth

to survive Some think it's wrong but we tend to think it's rightSo make all them ends you can make

'Cause when you're broke, you break, check it out So ain't no need for your mama to trip

'Cause you's a hustling ass youngsta, clocking your grip

Chorus

Artist: Dr. Dre

Album: Friday soundtrack

Song: Keep Their Headz Ringin

Intro:

Yeah, whattup, this is Dr. Dre The party's goin on Thank God it's Friday

["Buck buck buck buck booyaka shan!" - KRS One" repeat 4X]

Chorus:

Keep their headz ringin (ding ding dong \ ring-gading ding ding dong) / repeat 2X

Verse One:

[Hey you, sittin over there] Say what?

[You better get up out of your chair] That's right

[And work your body down] Yeahhh...

[No time to funk around, cause we gon....]

Funk, you, right on up So get up, get a move on, and get your groove on

It's the D-R-E the spectacularIn a party I go for your neck so call me Blackula

As I drain a niggaz jugular veinand maintain to leave blood stains so don't complain

Just chill, listen to the beats I spill Keepin it real, enables me to make another meal

Still, niggaz run up and try to kill at will But get popped like a pimple, so call me Clearasil

I wipe niggaz off the face of the Earth since birth I been a bad nigga, now let me tell you what I'm worth

More than a Stealth bomber, I cause drama The enforcer, music flows like a flying saucer

Or a 747 jet, never forget I'm that nigga that keeps the hoes panties wet

The mic gets smoked, once you hear the beat kick With grooves so funky, they come with a Speed Stick

So check the flavor that I'm bringin The motherfuckin D-R-E, will keep their motherfuckin headz ringin

Chorus

Verse Two:

One-two for the crew, three-fo' for the dough Five for the hoe, six-seven-eight for Death Row

Mad niggaz about to feel the full effect of intellect So I can collect respect, plus a check

Now I fin' to, get into to, my mental will take care of this business I need to attend to, cuz my rent's due

And this rap shit's my meal ticket So you god damn right I'm gonna kick it, or get evicted

I bring terror like Stephen King A black Casanova, runnin niggaz over like Christine

When I rock the spot with the flavor I got I kick plenty of ass, so call me an astronaut

As I blast past another nigga's ass that thought he was strong But I smoke him like grass, just like Cheech and Chong

When I flow, niggaz know, it's time to take a hike Cause I grab the mic and flip my tongue like a dyke

I got rhymes to keep you enchantedProduce a smokesscreen with the funky green to keep your eyes slanted

So check the flavor that I'm bringin The motherfuckin D-R-E, will keep their motherfuckin headz ringin

Chorus

Verse Three:

Debonairre with flair, I scare wear and tear without a care, runnin shit as if I was a mayor

But I ain't no politician, no competition Sendin all opposition to see a mortician

I'm up front, never in the back drop Step on stage and get faded just like a flat top

Your rhyme sounds like you bought em at Stop N Go

Dre came to wax you so, just call me Mop N Glow

Many tried to, but just can't rock with

I'm 6-1, 225, a pure chocolate

Your chances of jackin me are slim G

Cause I rock from summer til Santa comes down the chimney

Ho ho ho, and so, as I continue to flow

Cause yo, I'm just a fly negro

So, check the flavor that I'm bringin

The motherfuckin D-R-E, will keep their motherfuckin headz ringin

Chorus

Artist: Dr. Dre

Album: The Chronic

Song: Let Me Ride

Verse One

Creepin' down the back street on Deez

I got my glock cocked cuz niggaz want these

Now soon as I said it, seems I got sweated

By some nigga with a tech 9 tryin' to take mine

ya wanna make noise, make noise

I make a phone call my niggaz comin' like the Gotti boys

bodies bein' found on Greenleaf

with their fuckin heads cut off, motherfucker i'm Dre

so listen to the play-by-play, day-by-day

rollin' in my '4 with 16 switches And got sounds for the bitches, clockin'

all the riches Got the hollow points for the snitches

So would you just walk on by, cuz I'm too hard to lift

and no this ain't Aerosmith It's the motherfuckin D-R-E, from the CPT

on a ryhmin' spree, a straight G Hop back as i pop my top ya trip

I let the hollow points commence to POP POP POP

yeah, cuz if it don't stop

I have to put my shit in reverse go back and take anothers stop

Cause I'm (Rollin in my six-fo')

with all the niggaz sayin

Chorus:

Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride hell yeah Swing down, sweet chariot stop and,

let me ridewith all the niggaz sayinSwing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride

Hell yeah Swing down, sweet chariot stop and, let me ride

Verse Two

just another motherfuckin day for Dre so I begin like this No medallions, dreadlocks,

or black fists it's just that gangster glare, with gangster raps that gangster shit,

that makes the gang of snaps, uhh word to the motherfuckin streets

and word to these hyped ass lyrics and dope beats, that I

hit ya with that I, get ya with

as I groove in my four on deez, hittin the switches

bitches relax while I get my proper swerve on

bumpin like a motherfucker ready to get my serve on

but before I hit the dope spot

I gotta get the chronic, the Reme Martin and my soda pop

Now I'm smellin like indo-nesia

bus stop full of fly bitches and skeezers

on my dick, cause my four on hit

pancake front and back, side to side and all that shit

So when I crawl I comes correct

Now, if your bitch in my shit, it's your bitch you check nigga

Now let the Chevrolet slide

As I dip a nigga trip to the south side, yeah

(Rollin in my six-fo') with all the bitches sayin

Chorus

Verse Three

Check this out The sun went down when I hit Slausson on my way to the strip, now I'm just flossin

Checkin my rearview, cause niggaz they will do jack moves, black fools cause I smack fools

Try to set me up for a two-eleven

Fuck around and get caught up in a one-eight-seven

but I don't represent no gangbang

Some niggaz like lynchin but I just watch them hang

so on, and so-on, why don't you let me roll on

I remember back in the dayz when I used to have to get my stroll on

Didn't nobody wanna speak; now everybody

peepin out they windows when they hear me beatin up the streets

Is it Dre? Is it Dre?

That's what they say, every single motherfuckin day, yo

But I ain't trippin I'm just kickin it

While my deez keep spinnin and these hoes keep grinnin I'll be

(Rollin in my six-fo') With everybody sayin

Chorus: to end