Lookin At You(Album Version (Explicit))

歌詞

(Hook) Walkin down the street in my All-Stars In my khaki suit, doin' what I do Walkin down the street, smokin chronic In my black lokes, lookin at you (Verse 1) Guess who's back on the West Coast tracks It's the mothafuckin messiah of gangsta rap Still dippin in 64's, still puffin on the same chronic Haters mad 'cause I still got it I never fall off even without the Doc You niggas sellin your soul tryin to stay on top Bitch nigga, check your Kotex You niggas ain't movin shit like the hand on a fake-ass rolex I'm five million sold The cover of my last album the only time you see me sittin on gold I'm the most anticipated, most celebrated, Most loved, and the mothafuckin most hated, Keep rollin like gold daytons You niggas got the game fucked up like Hennessey with a coke chaser You gotta deal with me, I'm the west coast savior Niggas think of me every time they 64 scrape (Some dude) What do you call a nigga who's overbearing, belligerent, foul, defiant and very disrespectful? You call that nigga the Doctor's Advocate He's a reflection of Dr. Dre in his heyday in the worst way The five star surgeon general Took Jay-Z to the alchem lab and gave him a blood test that Came back G-A-M-E positive The niggas infected with the game virus Is over-rhetorical is so impeccable That niggas in the street call him sarge The young is down with violence In his heart he's retired It's not a game, it's just called a game There'll be no referees, no half-time reports When the game is over, the game is over You can't put a card in the machine and get three more men That's the end (Hook) I be walkin' down the street in my All-Stars In my khaki suit, doin' what I do Walkin down the street smokin chronic In my black lokes, lookin' at you (Verse 2) I done been to hell and back, left for dead, You know who to thank for that Finished my second LP without a Dr. Dre track You can take my soul but can't take my plaques I'm the mothafuckin snare when it touch the beat I'm the 808 drum that got you movin your feet I'm the heir to the throne after the D-R-E Product of my environment You old ass niggas get ready for your early retirement Before I let hip-hop burn down I'll run in the buildin' like a fireman Who can outspit me when I'm high off sticky Throwin back Patron shots in some creased-up Dickies I'm DOC certified, Ice Cube lynch man, Snoop stamped me and the good Doc hand picked me, You still with me? Me and my mic can't be separated like Interscope and, ha ha... Oh, shit Some good ass mothafuckin weed That California sticky green This is the aftermath of the Aftermath... West Coast