Hoes, Money & Clout

(Scratching by Daz Dillinger) Dogg Pound Don Corleone, whatever, whatever, Dogg Pound, East Side Don Corleone whatever, whatever, Dogg Pound, East Side Don Corleone, whatever, whatever, Dogg Pound, East Side For all my homies with the eight tray Regals (ride on) And all the playas in the '79 Coupes (ride on) For all of my gang affiliates in tha hoppin' '68 This ones from me to you (ride on) Well, not the Under Dogg, call me the Wonder Dogg I keep it crackin' while I'm stackin' in this game called rappin' Now I kick up my feet like I kick a rhyme to a beat And everytime you see me on the streets ,I gots some heat Hell, yeah, then pass the beat And everybody wanna know what's up with me and Master P (ughh) For your concern, you knew there wann't no gimmick When I got into some gangsta shit and told you wann't No Limit To the thangs I'm gon' do Now it's really goin' down with the DPGC Well, Daz did the beat, and Kurupt got the heat And Tray Dee, he laid the hook and Supafly played the keys (woo, woo) Ughh, it get no realer than this from the LB to the Down South Add more killers to this entourage South, West, oh, yes We in charge and we'll pull your cards No disrespect or disregards Life in the big LB is gettin' hard (so what) So my squad gon' mob and drop bombs Ring the alarm, we causin' everybody harm Chorus 2x: I make ya scream (ahhhhhh) I make ya shout (ooooohhh) C'mon all you party people Let me turn ya out Cuz you know I'm all about The hoes, money, and clout And I rock a Long Beach City (heyyyyyy) All the way down South Can you feel me? I can dig it Hoes- Take me to the bridge Snoop Dogg, Snoop Dogg (who) Snoop Dogg, Snoop Dogg (what) Snoop Dogg, Snoop Dogg (who) Snoop Dogg, Snoop Dogg Whether in a Khaki suit or a pimped stripe I'm a G for G and dat there's for life You can bet your bottom biscuit You get twisted if you dwellin' in my felon intuition (what up) Tha Doggfather is a household name From basketball to alcohol, everybody love the Dogg I'm sure Billy Clinton probably got a Doggystyle tape Somewhere hidden in his briefcase Newsweek, Rolling Stone, major magazines Dope fiends, prom queens, we too clean Take a look you ain't ever seen One hip-hop rapstar drop this West Coast rap-cord Back to the spot up top West Hills for real, give it up to him (WC) I hoo-bang with diamond Take a hit with B-Legeezy or 40 Fonzereezy With blue Colion playin' in the backround On the behind line with big style Hitting P, LIG tell him let it go Game strong, no longer in the roll Just a few names from the respected files LBC styles, DPG ale I bought a house with a lake in the back My big holey stack just like that Chorus: