Me In Your World (Original)

(альбом: Doggy Bag - 2012)

Yeah, give it up, Dogg Pound Gangstaz, Kurupt and Daz
We all about nothing but bitches, money and cash
You talk shit we just might blast
(Dat nigga Daz back in yo' ass once more)
(Fucking it up like you know...)
Always talking shit, well, here we have
Another situation, where we gotta mash
These niggas know nigga where we at

If I did it then I done it then a battle just started
And I'm gunning for niggas who ain't down who I ride for
Dat nigga Daz, Kurupt, Dogg Pound, Death Row
Here we go, Blood or Crip, it don't matter
I blast and outcast those who separate me from my goals
Without a doubt, kill 'em and turn 'em out
Notice the way that I shake, rattle and roll
And like your mamma crying, enthusiastic as two nines
Kaboom, we mash to the extreme as a team
Scope you out and cut you down like a guillotine
I hung a string of MC's who thought foolishness
Schooling this whole rap game, we ruling this
We doing this, pursuing this major
Stacking major paper, with my Dogg street behavior
I caved ya chest in, bruised ya ribs with a blow of skills
Like Tyson, knocking your ass out like Bruno
You know I bring death towards your whole fucking camp (camp)
Get in your skin, kill anything that lives
Sure enough, I never thought that your ass could come rough
Call your bluff, coming with skills to smash your stuff
You know it's hardcore, you know it's raw
You know it's hardcore, I'll break your jaw
Too many times with rhymes I combine
And blow minds with the ways I design too many fucking times

Hey Daz, the author of authentics (that's me)
When I was young I played games with skirt
Hide and go get it 'til I was laced in a clinic (uh uh)
Learned quick to always keep a leash and hat on my dick
(Slow down)
I know you're tripping off me and what play I threw
But I ain't tripping off you and what you say I do
It's time for war, man, they all running again
Empty clip, reload, start gunning again
I remember, "Kurupt, you'll never get that far"
No matter who you are, I found you can shine like stars
I used patience and the planet of my sight
To the corner of deuce-five where it's lot like life
I'm put in a position where I thinks
And I'm 'bout to beat MC's purple, blue and pink
Take what's yours (yours)
Break down your doors (doors)
Hardcore radical, rough and raw
When you come talking what you talk (talk)
It's me, I'm 'bout stalk and I rock it from L.A. to New York
On to the city of Phil' where all my niggas at keeping it real
All we in sharing here to the south to the east to the north
Kurupt, grabbing it about to rip it off
I rocks the West, so tell me who rocks the best
I rocks the spot without Glocks and homicidal shots
I leave the scene like a quake 'cause I leave 'em shaking
They all shake trying to take the money that I make
You'll never get past three rounds
Three rhymes, three MC's in three towns
I came to put it down
And lay all three of these motherfuckers down on the ground now

(You know, it's me in your world, Daz)
It's about the bitches
(Nah, it's about the cash)
Move quick
(Move fast)
The real again
(Leave a motherfucker stranded like Gilligan)
Kill and I kill again
I got money on my mind
(Posted at the Palms)
Sitting in my room with a pad
(Writing rhymes, dimes on the nickels)
Nickels on the dimes
(To quarters)
Thousands
(To million dollar bonds)

(You know, it's me in your world, Daz)
It's about the bitches
(Nah, it's about the cash)
Move quick
(Move fast)
The real again
(Leave a motherfucker stranded like Gilligan)
Kill and I kill again
I got money on my mind
Sitting in my room with a pad
(Writing rhymes, dimes on the nickels)
Nickels on the dimes
(To quarters)
Thousands
(To million dollar bonds)

Miss Afro Puff, step up on the cut
It's like ten-hut when I struts my big bad stuff now
Believe it or not, I rip the alien MC's like Ripley's
Sip tea 'cause I'm ice
Nothing nice on you mutts or you mice
Beware of the bark and beware of the bite
Spark off on the mic, champion MC
Hitting harder than Jack Dempsey on sensi
So, if you step into my ring
I'll be on that wack ass before the bell goes ding
So, roll with the punches
I crunch MC's like crunches, sit-ups, I, I got ya lit up
As we speak, niggas sweating my technique
They can't compete, I'm too sweet
In fact, I'm magnifique
That got a sensual appetite for eating rappers out of sheer delight
Fear no mic or no man; look ma, no hands, damn
Look at these wannabes, they get broke down to their hands and knees
With speed, with ease, I can make 'em all freeze
I'm strictly about them skills on the real'a
Strictly 'bout this muthafucking MC cold killer
Who, speaks with expertise, and any heifer want beef
I'll be that A-1 sauce, on your lips like gloss
I eat suckers as my entree, Rage got the bombay
I gets total wreck and I ain't playing with a full deck
It's just this Ace in your face, kicks from Earth to outer space
Give me space, room to breathe
Roll up my sleeves, it's a breeze
I'm blowing up the spot like infrared dots on your knot
Your noggin, lyrical murderer or Rocking Robin
I'll be dishing out that pudding while you suckers pussyfooting
Be acting, but I ain't got time for theatrics
My grooves be crushing
Shitty MC's I be flushing down the commode as I explode
Cock back and reload
Ride the beat until they say "whoa!"
And they tell me, 'Mama, don't hurt me no more'
I'm strictly 'bout them skills on the real'a
Strictly 'bout this muthafucking MC cold killer
And that's it...