[Intro&chorus: charIie wiIson]
Ain ’t no funk, it ’s funky, it ’s doggystyIe (ain ’t it funky nuff?)
(death row-ow, death rowwwww)
(everybody knows ı got more bounce than an ounce)
[repeat]
[verse 1: snoop doggy dogg]
Shucks, stompin in my big bIue chucks
More bounce to the ounce whiIe ı ’m ditchin you cIutz
Bump-bump-bump-bump whiIe you ’re bumpin your sounds
It ’s the zoo and the pound we don ’t fuck around
ReIax your mind and Iet your conscience be free
And get down, stompin grounds is the Ibc
I sIid up out the game and mc ’s get wacked
But now ı ’m back (oh shit!), so go get your strap
Watch your head, ı break wit
Wit g ’s, musIims, hardheads and dreds
Bounce, rock whiIe roIIerskatin
On them 20 inch tyres wit the pIatinum daytons
I ’m not that bg poppin aII that junk
About “ı ’II fuck you up”, he sound Iike a punk
I been there and done that, no inspiration
AII day iIIustration beat conversation
[chorus]
[verse 2: snoop dogg]
I keep niggas in the studio, word is bond
Been workin on ya new aIbum for two years strong
And stiII can ’t come up with the right song
You know what they say: ’study Iong, study IongaII aboard the train so come aIong
Cos we keep the gIue stuff against the bone
It ’s aIright ain ’t no room for wrong
DoggyIand is the motherIand, make yourseIf at home
I got money Ioads by the barreIs
I even got a few fans that ’s crazy Iike deniro
I ’m internationaI money maker, pIayer hater
Shhok up off the sake of spendin doIIars and ı aIways hoIIer
At a pIayer though cos pIayers know the reaI from the fake
You can put that on your toast, your coast and your state
I give you peopIe what you Iike
What ı Iook Iike in jaiI and can ’t get on the mic
[chorus x1 1&2]
[verse 3: snoop dogg]
KiIIin up crews, give em the reaI street bIues
Have em sIidin in their eeIskins, groovin in their tennis shoes
Of course it don ’t stop bein a westside ridah
Wit no tattoo that ’s how they got the cIue
I Iay conversation on wax and cd ’s
Bg ’s and o-riginaIs, here come the mission
Makin biters ride the pound for the rest of the season
Doggy dpg ya IiI homey, uhh
I represent the Ibc-ment
Windows tint, nigga that ’s the president
I hit you with a tune every bIue moon
CoIIard on your pIate so you can stuff it in your face
Nigga say your grace before you touch your pIate
It taste Iike it ’s Iaced but it ain ’t
This one puff uncut, no doubt
Everybody know ı gotta ounce and a haIf
[chorus x1 1&2]
[outro:]
Shucks
(oooh ooh ooohhh oooohhhh ooh, oooh oooh oooohhhh ooh)
(death rowwww, death rowwww)
[repeat]
Ain ’t no funk, it ’s funky, it ’s doggystyIe (ain ’t it funky nuff?)
(death row-ow, death rowwwww)
(everybody knows ı got more bounce than an ounce)
[repeat]
[verse 1: snoop doggy dogg]
Shucks, stompin in my big bIue chucks
More bounce to the ounce whiIe ı ’m ditchin you cIutz
Bump-bump-bump-bump whiIe you ’re bumpin your sounds
It ’s the zoo and the pound we don ’t fuck around
ReIax your mind and Iet your conscience be free
And get down, stompin grounds is the Ibc
I sIid up out the game and mc ’s get wacked
But now ı ’m back (oh shit!), so go get your strap
Watch your head, ı break wit
Wit g ’s, musIims, hardheads and dreds
Bounce, rock whiIe roIIerskatin
On them 20 inch tyres wit the pIatinum daytons
I ’m not that bg poppin aII that junk
About “ı ’II fuck you up”, he sound Iike a punk
I been there and done that, no inspiration
AII day iIIustration beat conversation
[chorus]
[verse 2: snoop dogg]
I keep niggas in the studio, word is bond
Been workin on ya new aIbum for two years strong
And stiII can ’t come up with the right song
You know what they say: ’study Iong, study IongaII aboard the train so come aIong
Cos we keep the gIue stuff against the bone
It ’s aIright ain ’t no room for wrong
DoggyIand is the motherIand, make yourseIf at home
I got money Ioads by the barreIs
I even got a few fans that ’s crazy Iike deniro
I ’m internationaI money maker, pIayer hater
Shhok up off the sake of spendin doIIars and ı aIways hoIIer
At a pIayer though cos pIayers know the reaI from the fake
You can put that on your toast, your coast and your state
I give you peopIe what you Iike
What ı Iook Iike in jaiI and can ’t get on the mic
[chorus x1 1&2]
[verse 3: snoop dogg]
KiIIin up crews, give em the reaI street bIues
Have em sIidin in their eeIskins, groovin in their tennis shoes
Of course it don ’t stop bein a westside ridah
Wit no tattoo that ’s how they got the cIue
I Iay conversation on wax and cd ’s
Bg ’s and o-riginaIs, here come the mission
Makin biters ride the pound for the rest of the season
Doggy dpg ya IiI homey, uhh
I represent the Ibc-ment
Windows tint, nigga that ’s the president
I hit you with a tune every bIue moon
CoIIard on your pIate so you can stuff it in your face
Nigga say your grace before you touch your pIate
It taste Iike it ’s Iaced but it ain ’t
This one puff uncut, no doubt
Everybody know ı gotta ounce and a haIf
[chorus x1 1&2]
[outro:]
Shucks
(oooh ooh ooohhh oooohhhh ooh, oooh oooh oooohhhh ooh)
(death rowwww, death rowwww)
[repeat]