Kurupt F Daz Dillinger Fresh Lyrics

Fresh Lyrics

Daz: 

 ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooohh... 

  

 Kurupt: 

 G'd up, we're back, that's what I keep hearing 

 We ain't never went nowhere fool (what?) 

 Better ask your folks about the D-O-double G's 

  

 How long could the war last on a warpath? 

 We're still heat nigga, still signing autographs 

 Still hitting the stash, and pulling pistols out to dash 

 The poetical poltergeist, verbal Jerry Weiss 

 Fuck the ice, give me a mic and let's see who's the nicest 

 I fuck around and call it crisis 

 with preciseness, and precisely this 

 See we make the shit that precisely hits. 

 So how soon could you pump up the volume 

 Hand you your ends and pump up my album 

 Get yours, I call the fucking holocaust 

 I'm out to get mine, get yours, snatching anything yours 

 Cocking back your name, blasting anything 

 Yo, Tha Dogg Pound gang, where all the G's hang 

 It's impossible not for that ass to end up in a hospital 

 G-R, Gang Related, and we are 

  

 We are (fresh) (repeat) 

  

 I spit poison, poisonous darts 

 I aim, bomb and charge 

 One rhyme will hold your pose and stop your heart 

 Stop to talk, start to walk, and never walk again 

 Legs broken, just played loc, zoning broke and crushed 

 touched, bust open, get hit like the four winds 

 Up against four assassins, the four horsemen of rapping 

 I gotta pinch my self to make sure I ain't dreaming 

 'Cause I just saw the homie bring an M-16 in (booya!) 

 I fade in to see how Baby sparks 

 No ifs, ands or maybe's, Baby barks 

 Turn on the daylight, pitch black thoughts 

 I pitch back sparks when the get back starts 

 This is it, we're 'bout to show you how to do shit 

 DPG completely, running through shit 

  

 We are (fresh) (repeat) 

  

 break it down 

  

 Daz (Kurupt): 

 Party people clap your hands, keep rocking 

 Sho' shocking and rocking, DJ C-walking (kick that shit) 

 Party people clap your hands now (sing that shit) 

 Party people clap your hands (yeah) 

 Party people clap your hands, keep rocking (huh) 

 Sho' shocking and rocking, DJ C-walking (bitch) 

 Party people clap your hands now (sing that shit) 

 Party people clap your hands (put your hands in the air, niggaz, come on, 

 come on, sing it) 

  

 It's just a gangsta party 

  

 Kurupt: 

 Supa dupa, said you was seductive, psycho psychotic, psycho somatic 

 Psycho's with automatics, the aftermath with the poetical psychopath 

 And I might go slow, and I might go fast, and I might go burst 

 Then I might go last, thinking I might not bust 

 And I just might just blast 

 Or I might just whoop the skin of your ass, if you cross or pass 

 You know I'm the rawest MC with it 

 Fuck jiggy nigga, I'm DP with it 

 I've been the bombstrike, like the motherfucking pentagon 

 Napalm verses disperses to all the mental gone 

 Mack 10-ing dunn, separate and lick a mind 

 Tear them in the zone in his leg, ain't bust his head 

 Keep busting till he's dead 

 D-A-Z with the bombest in the country, taking lead on the street 

 What you got, flame or some heat? 

 Do you incinerate, or make it hot, he got (???) 

 Powerful, strong or weak? 

 All I know is I drop shit that cracks the concrete, and... 

  

 (fresh) we are (repeat) 

  

 Dogg Pound, D-A-Z, Snoop Dogg, Kurupt, Nate Dogg 

  

 Snoop Dogg, Dogg Pound, D-A-Z, Kurupt, Nate Dogg 

 Soopafly, Tray Deee, Big C Style 

 The homies, anybody, we are O.G.'s, Baby G's 

 D-A-Z, he made the beat, 'cause we are... 

 Dogg Pound, DP, Death Row, yeah, you know it, yeah 

 You know it, 'cause we are icons