O.F.T.B.
That Was Then, This Is Now (Explicit)
[Intro: BUST STOP]
Ah yeah, we back in this muthafucka
Toast to my n***a Low M.B., my n***a Flipside
And I’m Bust Stop
We got Kurupt from the Dogg Pound in this muthafucka
And I’m sick and tired of all you n***as always hollerin’ about what you did in the past
Muthafucka, the past don’t excite me
That was then, this is now
So save all that bullshit about the past n***a
(That’s right)

[Verse 1: LOW M.B.]
Fuck the past, gotta get my cash
Even if it means gettin’ into your ass
Look into the future, n***a I shoot ya
Run upon your ass, steeltoe boot ya
Straight to the face, murder was the case
If I ever catch your ass gettin’ outta place
It’s ’96 and I ain’t lettin’ shit slide
I’ma ride on anyone of you muthafuckas tryna glide
With the muthafuckin’ Operation
Getto Records takin’ over the whole nation
A.K.A. Death Row, check the flow
(Cutthroat killas and criminals!) Boo!
But we some cold blooded killas
And we ain’t never got caught because we quiet as a caterpillar
So if you ever wanna question our ability
You better bring plenty of artillery
‘Cause we got Hillary in the gut, don’t stand by
For any muthafucka ready to die
[Chorus: O.F.T.B.]
If only I knew then what I know now
I wouldn’t have wasted my time sellin’ ki’s and pounds
But that was then, and this is now
That was then, and this is now

[Verse 2: BUST STOP]
I can’t dwell on the past, I got rhymes to write
I’m tired of watchin’ other n***as gettin’ paid off the mic
When I’m knowin’ to myself all these n***as ain’t real
Step to the Bottom watch caps get peeled
Fuck what you done back in ’86
Now I’m shakin’ all the fake n***as, snitches and tricks
My days of sittin’ in the spot sellin’ rocks is over
Don’t playa hate a n***a when we tryna get over
I gives a fuck about your cash, your n***as, your clout
Ain’t no fakin’ on the rap, that ain’t what we about
I gots to keep it real, this is Hunters for life
When you think of O.F.T.B., think of sacrifice
Now the Cold War’s over and the comment’ll say
Bust Stop, Low and Flip got cash and checks
I swear to God I was blessed, ?? with my n***as
My bank was ?? but now it’s bigger

[Verse 3: KURUPT]
Y’all braggin’, flossin’ the rag and flaggin’
Dusted, pokin’, disgusted
Life’s a trip, and it’s all about heat clips and chips
A menace like Heathcliff, we clips on each hip
Come equipped, you always got some shit to spit
About what you got or about to get
I got this, I got that, I shot this, I shot that
I got shot at, duck, hit the cut and shot back
I got a lick to go and hit in a couple of days
Always revealin’ your ways of gettin’ paid
Participatin’ and twistin’ (come on)
Spittin’ ‘bout all the licks you done hit, but n***a that don't mean shit
Fuck the past, n***a
It’s all about now I got the heat in hand, I’m ‘bout to blast
[Chorus: O.F.T.B.] x2
If only I knew then what I know now
I wouldn’t have wasted my time sellin’ ki’s and pounds
But that was then, and this is now
That was then, and this is now

[Verse 4: FLIPSIDE]
You can see me comin’ from a mile away
So make way for the n***a named DK
Forever on the edge, place is narrow
Dressed like a sparrow with a sawed off double barrel
See what you done was so terrible
That when I finish dumpin’ it’s gonna take a miracle
This here is for the mob, the Hunters on the job
When the heat is in the house they gettin’ robbed, yeah
Leavin’ ‘em with a muthafuckin’ ?? style
Watts in the house, oh my god, banger

[Verse 5: SNOOP DOGG]
From the bottom to the top, top to the bottom
I’m gone get with ‘em while I still got ‘em
I’ll rock this ?? ’til it turn to a boulder
My game gettin’ colder and colder
Man, you better realize, and keep your eyes on the prize
Only the strong survive, on my side
Game to the youngstas, peep game
Snoop Dogg is the name, Dogg Pound is the gang
I’ma twist it, so listen
Death Row, O.F.T.B., DPG
On a mission, to the t-o-p
From the bottom, baby B, can’t you see, ??
‘Cause that’s the ?? you gots to peep the styles
I wish I knew then what I know now
But I don’t ?? so I can’t fake the funk (fake the funk, fake the funk)
Wack rappers on the mic, shall I kill ‘em?
Damn right, if you claim the wrong set you better tell ‘em