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lirik lagu that top dogg nigga - top dogg

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[verse 1: y.g.d. tha top dogg]
you m~th~f~ckas already know, when i stepped through tha’ do’
slow with the roll, i came to f~ck up a show
get this b~tch knockin’ off tha’ hook, i got this weed, with this drank, and some rubbers in my pocket~book
so take a look, i’m off the hook like a g’
and that n~gga talkin’ sh~t, you can’t see me
lookin’ like you in a pyscho~zone
n~gga get locked up, now you barkin’ sh~t all in the microphone
but i’m not trippin’ off the dumb sh~t
too many styles for you homie, a n~gga ’bouta run sh~t, done sh~t
then hit tha’ f~ckin’ corner, ’cause if you f~ckin’ with tha’ dogg, then you’s a f~ckin’ goner
a n~gga wouldn’t want ya, ’cause i play dirty, like dirty harry
hangin’ outside with sl!ck, curby, and larry
on ah m~th~f~ckin’ mission its da’ gangsta sh~t
with that death row, and darkside~astic sh~t~

[chorus]
tha’ top dogg, n~gga, rips it, riiiiight (riiight)
he just spits it, tiiiiight
tha’ death row, n~gga, rips it, flyyy (flyyy)
he just rips it, and spits it, and kicks it tight

[verse 2: y.g.d. tha top dogg]
hold up, pause
i cook it like a chef
i count it like a ref
smoke it ’til its nothin’ left
and then i turn around and pick up a cup, ’cause i’m that tall slim n~gga, that dont give a f~ck
with my .9 in my spine, on the grind all the time
at the same time gettin’ at a m~th~f~ckin’ dime
with my ghetto ass here, and my piece on my neck
white t~shirt and some gas, what the f~ck you expect?
i still look fresh, whether its flesh, or tb
scratchin’ n~ggas and these b~tches off my d~ck like a flea
’cause i’m tha’ top dogg, boss hog, i f~cks, all y’all, f~cked every time, [?] aw, fo’ show, dawg
[chorus]
tha’ top dogg, n~gga, rips it, riiiiight (riiight)
he just spits it, tiiiiight
tha’ death row, n~gga, rips it, flyyy (flyyy)
he just rips it, and spits it, and kicks it tight

[verse 3: y.g.d. tha top dogg]
n~ggas ain’t sh~t
but some m~th~f~ckin’ fleas and rats, wanna squeeze they gats
when they see a young ballin’ m~th~f~cka tryna stack: it snaps
pockets grip’, look into his rearview~pop in his clip, (fo’ what?)
’cause he trust no one (d~mn)
they may never leave the house with out packin’ a gun
nah, these streets ain’t sh~t, (dawg) y’all n~ggas be trippin
spot tha’ dogg in traffic, and they think i be slippin’
but i’m so [?], [?] technique
that even my freak, gotta hold a heat
’cause my stylin’ so sweet, that all these n~ggas gonna be up to creep

[chorus]
tha’ top dogg, n~gga, rips it, riiiiight (riiight)
he just spits it, tiiiiight
tha’ death row, n~gga, rips it, flyyy (flyyy)
he just rips it, and spits it, and kicks it tight


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