A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


"It's All Your Fault"

Drunken Master
"Drunken Master. Uh-huh-huh-huh-huh."
"Yeah, n*gga. Uh. Uh."
"You know what? Yeah, this Kurupt, young Gotti. Dogg Pound-like gangsta
Assassin. Numba one."
"Drunkenstyle, baby. C'mon."
"Huh? It's like this, homie."

We don't stop. We pop Glocks
We got nots. We clock knocks
I bust shots. I'm raw dog
Kurupt's a hog. O-G for the dogs!

"Uh! Uh. It's like that, ch'all!"
"It's goin' down. Let's get some freestyle sh*t in here."
"Y-Y-Yeah! It's like that, n*gga."

All my gangbangin' homeboys throw it up. I'ma blow it up
Make the spot flame. You don't know my name?
I'ma tell ya somethin', homie. You know the game?
I don't got no strain, no type of stress
I protects myself wit' the Smif-to the-Wes
Westside, n*gga. Rida for life!
Dogg Pound Gangsta, you know my wife
And d-dough, I come through and blaze the weed though
Drop n*ggas down all the time. Dogg Pound all the time
When you see me bust a rhyme, believe it's nice
Ignite mics, homie. I'm cold as ice
And I'm percise like shots at point blank
These n*ggas wanna come through? They get ganked!
My homeboy Drunken Master said
'Ayyo, Kurupt, you gotta bust 'em
Leave that bast*rd dead, n*gga.'
So indeed I had to c*ck my heat
Bust two shots, lay him flat in his seat
Make his homegirl holla, then I bust her in bed
Everybody know I bust rhymes, I come from the head
I'ma leave 'em all dead and you heard what I said
Make 'em bleed 'til they bled, when you see me in red
n*gga, best believe I'm bleedin'
'cause the only color I blue is blue and you know it's true
It's true. And, n*gga, what I do is I ride
Dogg Pound Gangsta, homicidal vibes, n*gga
My heart pounds, everybody lay it down
You look around. Bustin' everybody on the ground
And if you got money, I'm in your pockets. Strip 'em off
I get it right. b*tches get it off
The sideline to ride. Homicidal indeed
Kurupt, I run through and I blaze the weed
Super Fire in the back and the D-A-Z
And my homeboy, the S-N-double O-P
Now we don't stop. We pop Glocks
"It's all your fault."
We clock knocks. Rock non-stop
"No hoe, no salt."
You just a b*tch and b*tches eat di*k
Also you know that b*tches ain't sh*t
See, I rock rhymes the drop of a dime
I'm one-of-a-kind. Line-for-line
A Dogg Pound Gangsta, you know me
K-U-R-U-P-T, D-P-G-C

[Drunken Master]
Check it out. Drunken Master in the house chasin' cash wit' Kurupt and Daz
It ain't my fault if I blast on yo' busta ass
Drunkenstyle, n*gga, time to put it down
Professional Chedda Chasers ridin' wit' Tha Dogg Pound
Bustin' off shots, headed for the weed spot
On your block bumpin' underground Pac, n*gga
p*ssy drunk, don't make me pop the trunk
Ayyo, Kurupt! Put the weed in the blunt
So we can bring the ruckus to these gangsta hatin' b*tches
Drunken Master on the road to the riches
Snitches catch slugs when they ride down my block
Ayyo, Kurupt, tell these n*ggas what you got

Kurupt's voice sampled]
I got sixteen mothaf*ckin' M-16's
Fifteen nine millimeters with beams
Fifteen mothaf*ckin' MACK-11's
And mini-macks too, n*gga. b*tch little n*gga
Punk mothaf*cka
B-b*tch little n*gga. Punk-
punk mothaf*cka. B-b*tch little n*gga
b*tch little-b*tch little-b*tch little n*gga
Punk mothaf*cka. B-b*tch little n*gga
b*tch little-b*tch little-b*tch little n*gga

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

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