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Dr. Dre - Gospel

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  • Вес файла: 8.2 Mb
  • Длина дорожки: 03:30
  • Битрейт: 320 kbs
Текст песни

Yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

What? (Uh) What? (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Dre, you ready? (Woo, woo, woo, woo)

C'mon (Yo, we gotta do whatever...)

Alright (Check, check, check, check, check)

Get 'em!

Cut 'em undercover, timeless, ready for 'em, progress

Feelin' like I'm just gettin' started

Two shots back for my dearly departed

Uh, you are now dealin' with a monster, boss shit, profits

Doc Dre, bitch, I'm a prophet

Black Wall Street, niggas know where the stock is

Heh, try me, niggas never see me, but it ain't hard to find me

Heh, unwinding, shit's blinding, still grinding, up rising

Agh, stop talking 'bout the past, I'm the future, nigga

Agh, nigga like me still here, motherfucker, go figure

Lookin' for my next gold digger

This summer here gon' be colder than winter

Already told you, I fold you like hundreds of billions

And you can go missing, put that on my children

Bet that, nigga, what? Regret that, run it up

Heh, and I'm about to sum it up

This shit here that problem, livin' at the bottom of a bottle

"Full throttle" my motto, ehh

Fuckin' with me like fuckin' with the lotto

That awful in your nostril, in a brothel, this is gospel

Yeah, I'ma need all that pronto

Yes I, yes I, yes I, ride 'til I die

Give a fuck if you bitches die

Put a motherfucking hole in your face

Back up, bitch, don't even try

I am that motherfucker, been the coldest

Why you on that, no one know us

Overdosed on what dope is (Yeah)

Hip-hop shit sell better than the coke did

Like a satanic cult

It's an old ritual slaughtering GOATS, bitch (GOATS, bitch, yeah)

You're fucking with the original, flow's sick

And anybody can get it: COVID (Fuck with that?)

I done wrote shit that was so sharp

I could slit my own fucking throat with it

So rich, I got more chips than my shoulders

And I'm about as approachable as a roach is (Roach is, yeah)

So better steer clear from him

Here comes a nuclear bomb for your eardrums

Lyricism at its most fearsome and fierce

We're on another tier like a tear duct's upper echelon (Yeah)

Your career sucks (Meaning what?), it was sheer luck (Like what?)

Like a fuckin' leprechaun with its beard cut

(Still a) Punisher, weapon drawn with a beer gut (Haha)

You're slower than a Decepticon with its gear stuck

(And I what?) I serial kill, and you're Kellogg's

I love checks and I hate tricks

And you're a fake bitch (Bitch)

I could spot you like you 'bout to weight lift (Yeah)

Bitch, I'm badder than cake mix

(But I) Can't be whipped with egg beaters (Nah)

You cunts must be out of your labias, and God is my alias

So if I don't have faith in me, then it basically makes me an atheist

(Woo) Nate Diaz got the world by the tracheas in a chokehold and a sleeper *snores*

Yeah, and me and Dre are like dog hair (Woof)

We're both in our lab coats like retrievers

But like a Doberman, I'm a whole different breed of (What?)

Animal mutt mixed with a overachiever (Yeah)

Oh, you're the king of rap? You 'bout to be overthrown

Like a pass over the head of an open receiver

This shit could end up comin' to blows like a wiener (Haha)

But I ain't finished puttin' these hoes through the ringer (Nah)

Like clothes in between the two roll is a– wait, no

What I'm in is flow's interwoven, I treat 'em like thread (Why?)

That's how I wound up sewin' machine up

So, fucks if you don't give up me the time to ride or die (Yeah)

'Cause you're either both or you're neither (Yeah)

Throw a middle finger up (Yeah) if you're rollin' (Yeah)

But, me, I'm gonna

Ride 'til I die

Give a fuck if you bitches die

Put a motherfucking hole in your face

Back up bitch, don't even try

I am that motherfucker, been the coldest

Why you on that, no one know us

Overdosed on what dope is

Hip-Hop shit sell better than the coke did

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