Lyrics
(Ugh) ha-ha-ha, I'm serious, nigga
One of y'all niggas got some bad motherfuckin' breath
(Oh, man) aye, baby, aye, baby (shit) aye, baby
Get some bubblegum in this motherfucker or somethin'
Aye, nigga, get somethin' to eat, dog
Aye, nigga, study long, study wrong, nigga
With so much drama in the L-B-C
It's kind of hard bein' Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin' up with funky-ass shit, like, every single day
May I kick a little something for the G's
And make a few ends as I breeze through?
Two in the mornin' and the party's still jumpin'
'Cause my momma ain't home
I got bitches in the livin' room gettin' it on
And they ain't leavin' 'til six in the mornin' (six in the mornin')
So what you wanna do?
Shit, I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too
So turn off the lights and close the doors
But (but what?) We don't love them hoes, yeah
So we gon' smoke an ounce to this
G's up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind
Now that I got me some Seagram's gin
Everybody got they cups, but they ain't chipped in
Now this type of shit happens all the time
You got to get yours but, fool, I gotta get mine
Everything is fine when you listening to the D-O-G
I got the cultivating music that be captivating he
Who listens to the words that I speak
As I take me a drink to the middle of the street
And get to mackin' to this bitch named Sadie (Sadie?)
She used to be the homeboy's lady (oh, that bitch)
80 degrees, when I tell that bitch please
Raise up off these N-U-T's, 'cause you gets none of these
At ease, as I mob with the Dogg Pound
Feel the breeze, biatch, I'm just...
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind
Later on that day, my homie Dr. Dre
Came through with a gang of Tanqueray
And a fat ass J of some bubonic chronic
That made me choke; shit, this ain't no joke
I had to back up off of it and sit my cup down
Tanqueray and chronic, yeah, I'm fucked up now
But it ain't no stoppin', I'm still poppin'
Dre got some bitches from the city of Compton
To serve me; not with a cherry on top
'Cause when I bust my nut I'm raising up off the cot
Don't get upset, girl, that's just how it goes
I don't love you, hoes, I'm out the door, and I'll be...
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (laid back)
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (biatch)
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo
Sippin' on gin and juice (biatch)
With my mind on my money
And my money on my mind
