(feat. Nate Dogg) It's just another day in the hood for Kurupt, yeah, that's me Got schooled by Snoop in a black Cherokee Daz in the back, Warren G. in the front Nice sack of chronic with some gin in a cup Back up I stack up the weed Tha Pound and the Row is my only friends If you talk shit, I hit you hard as I can You talk shit once but never again Well, I'm back with the bubonic chronic sack for that ass So all my doggs pack the back, laced his ass To the fullest feeling I'm feelin you never could feel While your mind is comin where your body is chill As I mob with tha pound and my nigga Nate Dogg Not flaggin, not saggin, but havin a ball Yo, saw y'all motherfuckers wanna see like doggs Wanna be like doggs, but can't compare to doggs It's like one to the two, two to the three K to the U-R-U-P-T In fact, I steps with a tech in the back In the hood, ain't got no love, so I packs a strap And I once knew a nigga named Dr. Dre He was a baller from the motherfucking CPT(a baller from the CPT) He hooked up with the niggas from the LBC And now they fuckin up the whole rap industry Well, check it out, and peep game on the one they call Dat Nigga Daz An OG straight puttin it down for the Eastside(right) But this is just a dove sack of dope So till yo ass dopes this mo Now, you can't see my mothafuckin homies from the CPT And you can't see my mothafuckin doggs from the LBC Check this flow, Hoover ain't the word to describe me, nigga Remember, I'm murderin niggas as a hobby Bodies get battered for fuckin with the best dogg dump With the tech-n-terror to fuckin chest start Do I give a fuck (hell no) I'm a locc nigga Who you tryin to provoke(nigga) step up, get smoked nigga Get the strap in the back I'm rollin and a bumpin Niggas talk shit I won't write and start dumpin Uh, who play the role like the G's Punk ass middle fuckin mark niggas, please Murder in the first degree I step with a tech, burst and flee You'll find none worst than me See, motherfuckers murdered and mangled, strangled Our bitches like a bangled Take ya from a whole different angle Bitches, I'm never sympin, You'll see me pimpin I step the clip in, bust a cap Watch them fall flat on they back Like this and like that from an automatic strap So for tryin the techno Respect I gets wrecked with a glock And it just don't stop I check every nigga known that's tryin to check me I wreck microphones verbally, respect me I'm off to the sto(re) to get me a fo(ur) Oh, so I'm headed out the door Now as I roll with Kurupt and my cousin Eastwood On a mission up to no good We don't love you bitch After we finish diggin Tha Pound's about that dollar and takin no shit From the busta ass niggas, Bell it out shit Trick, recognize game when it slaps your face See I ain't no fzzzake, I take you to the next stzzzage One time can't trzzzace, now why you punk twice Now, you've been sleeping on the desk for a long time Waitin for the nigga to come bust a dogg rhyme So motherfuckers throw your hands in the air And get your proper groove on like you don't care See I don't love them hoes I like a butta nose Keep my mind on my money, that's just how my money flows And so How, I thought you knew, but now you know Dogg Pound's in tha house, now in the coupe, Just Doggin Dogg Pound's in tha house, now in the coupe, Just Doggin