A Nigga Witta Gun

(álbum: The Chronic - 1992)

Yeah, nigga, what's up with all that motherfucking shit you was talking, nigga? (Hey, why you tripping?)
Huh? (Hey Dre, why you tripping, why you tripping?)
Fuck that, nigga, what's up with all that shit you was talking, nigga? (I ain't say nothing, why you tripping?)
You're a motherfucking liar, nigga, that was you (Nah, that wasn't me!)
That was you, nigga (That wasn't me!), hey—
Hey, check this out, motherfucker
What's wrong, nigga? (It wasn't!)
You can't talk with a gun in your mouth? (Nah, it wasn't me, Dre!)
You can't talk with a gun in your mouth? (It wasn't me!)
Listen up, nigga, you know Lucifer? (Nah)
Well, you're about to meet him, motherfucker

Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun

Forty-four reasons come to mind
Why a motherfucking brother is hard to find
He been walking on the streets and fucking with mine
Stupid punk can't fuck with a mastermind
See, I never take a step on a Compton block
Or L.A. without the AK ready to pop
'Cause them punk motherfuckers in black and white
Ain't the only motherfuckers I gots to fight
I think it's better to be telling the facts than cuffed up
And jacked and fucked up
What you niggas looking at? You going
"Goddamn!" 'Cause it's the city
And for you to survive, a nigga gotta be a gangster
And I'm a nigga you can't remove
Took out a lot of motherfuckers for trying to prove
To they homies that they can hang by dealing with me
But once again in the end they D-E-A-D
I never did time on a murder yet
'Cause I relax, sit back, do a job and jet
Yo, I know you understand my flow
So here we go, and Death Row
Come let a motherfucker know

Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun
Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun

D-R-E, a motherfucker who's known for carrying gats
And kick raps that make snaps, adapts to
Any environment that I'm located at
If you see me on the solo move believe that I'm strapped
Four-four, tray-eight or AK-47
'Cause slowly but surely send you on a stairway to heaven
Just put my finger on the trigger and pull back
And lay a punk motherfucker flat
As he wonder what popped before he got popped
I told you I was Dre and you know it don't stop
Now I know you understand my flow
So here we go, and Death Row
Come let a motherfucker know

Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun
Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun
Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun
Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun

I breaks 'em off, I breaks 'em off, yeah
I breaks 'em off, I breaks 'em off, yeah

I breaks 'em off, but I ain't speaking about between the thighs
I'm talking about cocking a gauge in between your eyes
It'll make you drop to your knees 'cause you realize
That a gat'll make any nigga civilized
Old buster-ass nigga talking bullshit
Don't know that I'm the wrong nigga to fuck with
Get lit or hit up by the doctor
A nigga that breaks 'em off properly
Real G so don't doubt it
I'm the one who's doing it while these other niggas talk about it
And if motherfuckers come at me wrong
I straight put my forty-four Desert Eagle to his motherfucking dome
And show him why they call me the notorious one
The name is Dre Eastwood when I'm packing a gun
You don't believe me, well step up and give it a try
And if you die, you's a buster, 'cause real niggas don't die
But some still don't hear me, though
You're too near me not to hear me, nigga, yo
So now you know

Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun
Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun
Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun
Who's the man with the master plan?
A nigga with a motherfucking gun