Luyện nghe bài hát D.P.G.

My Daz
The funkiest to make beats
Nobody him, East to West coast

Say what? Sat
Motherfucker too much, too much, too
(I heard bit our shit 'cuz)
we from? yeah

Dogg Gangstas, baby
Dogg Pound
(Say Say what?)
Dogg Gangstas, baby
Dogg Gangstas
(Motherfucker, too much)

Pound Gangstas, baby
(Too much)
Dogg Pound Gangstas
(Too much)
Dogg Pound Gangstas,
Dogg Gangstas
(Hey, Daz)

I heard of a lot of dope ass and I'm down with 'em
In deed we all smoke weed and with 'em
around with 'em, one man, with my gun in hand
There's only one land, down with me I can count on one hand
(Dogg Pound)

The Carma get dumb-a, the double pump-a heat bump-a
And I rocking mic's since funky drum-a
adventures reak havoc
Speak lifestyle but crack your clavicle for the cabbage

savage, introduction to death
Murder MC's ain't shit left
In a sector, why must MC's
Like gymnastics, just to get ho ass whipped

Claiming classic, but you don't set no classic examples
With your up beats, and your fucked up samples
Ya verbal war, you won't survive no more
I turned the channel, niggaz you ain't live no more

I use to follow, but now your's a legend like hollow
I to kill on horse, peel your cap, swallow
There's no tomorrow, nigga, it all
I been rocking a mic nigga since began

I'm the man, now is this that I'm told to be red on the spot
by a nigga I admire
(Sucka)
Oh shit, no this can't be
Who's this on the radio me

D O double G, P O U N D, shit
Doing a video for a song that got blew proportion
I found he's the deadliest force in the
Where it's all glamor, fame, and fortune

As we blast and creep, so you
homeboys and any fools trying to compete
We the elite, dat nigga Daz is back and he's
And anytime we meet to face we mashing

Dogg Pound Gangstas,
Dogg Pound Gangstas
(Say Say what?)
Pound Gangstas, baby
Dogg Gangstas Gangstas
(Too much)

Dogg Pound Gangstas,
(Too much)
Dogg Pound Gangstas
(Too much)
Pound Gangstas, baby
Dogg Pound Gangstas
(You what?)

So gimme, the heat to the motherfucking
Hit slimmies, 3's and I be's penny
Raw, fifteen separate sawed-offs
To you chest, techs, and pissed to get complex

If I had a million dollars, then I'd be
If ho was on deck, then I'd fuck yo bitch
Gotti in the cut with the Don, Colene
And Dillinger, with the tip chromes

Catch you in traffic, you all flabbergasted
you all, all walking caskets
Hit the spot where the is sold
Low and behold, the composition composed

Can you catch it, I threw my thoughts a quarterback
So they in the realm wit I mangle, murder, and slaughter at
React, actions speak louder than
But ain't nothing more potent vision

I seen out in through the visions,
I'm rapping, busting your melon, then escape a lyrical felon
Accelling in and out like, as if I'm the bomb, boom
And hit 3's as my D's and keep it gangsta

Pound Gangstas, baby
Dogg Pound
Pound Gangstas, baby
Dogg Gangstas

Dogg Pound Gangstas,
Dogg Pound Gangstas
Dogg Gangstas, baby
Pound Gangstas