Snoop Bounce

Shucks, stompin in my big blue chucks More bounce to the ounce while I'm ditchin you clutz Bump-bump-bump-bump while you're bumpin your sounds It's the zoo and the Pound we don't fuck around Relax your mind and let your conscience be free and get down, stompin grounds is the LBC I slid up out the game and MC's get wacked but now I'm back (Oh shit!), so go get your strap Watch your head, I break wit wit G's, Muslims, hardheads and dreds Bounce, rock while rollerskatin on them 20 inch tyres wit the platinum Daytons I'm not that BG poppin all that junk about "I'll fuck you up", he sound like a punk I been there and done that, no inspiration All day illustration beat conversation [Chorus] [Verse 2: Snoop Dogg] I keep niggas in the studio, word is bond Been workin on ya new album for two years strong and still can't come up with the right song You know what they say:'Study long, study long' All aboard the train so come along cos we keep the glue stuff against the bone It's alright ain't no room for wrong Doggyland is the motherland, make yourself at home I got money loads by the barrels I even got a few fans that's crazy like DeNiro I'm international money maker, player hater shhok up off the sake of spendin dollars and I always holler at a player though cos players know the real from the fake You can put that on your toast, your coast and your state I give you people what you like What I look like in jail and can't get on the mic [Chorus x1 1/2] [Verse 3: Snoop Dogg] Killin up crews, give em the real street blues Have em slidin in their eelskins, groovin in their tennis shoes Of course it don't stop bein a Westside ridah Wit no tattoo that's how they got the clue I lay conversation on wax and CD's BG's and o-riginals, here come the mission Makin biters ride the Pound for the rest of the season Doggy DPG ya lil homey, uhh I represent the LBC-ment Windows tint, nigga that's the president I hit you with a tune every blue moon Collard on your plate so you can stuff it in your face Nigga say your Grace before you touch your plate It taste like it's laced but it ain't This one puff uncut, no doubt Everybody know I gotta ounce and a half [Chorus x1 1/2] [Outro:] Shucks (Oooh ooh ooohhh oooohhhh ooh, oooh oooh oooohhhh ooh) (Death Rowwww, Death Rowwww) [repeat]