[Daz Dillinger]  Yeah, Daz Dillinger  I'm gonna take you into some gangsta shit  What y'all niggas don't even know about  And now you ?feels? to know about,  what we call Gangsta Rap  But this is for the niggas who was down from day one    Love to hear, love to hear you motherfuckers  I advise all you ghetto livin', struggling from day to day,  tryin' to flip a figure dollar devil up inside a bag of weed,  a fresh pair of khakis and take a bitch to the groovy ass niggas  To get your money man, get paid  These motherfuckers are cut off welfare   How are we go eat if we don't cheat  These (?) bitch to me made the game out of young black niggas lives  Striking us out from left to right   With no motherfucking one in sight  Fuck that!!  Sell your dope  Get your jack on, get your sack on,  put your rag on and get your motherfucking thang on, niggas  Cause it's on  God dammit it's on  Now what the hell you bout to go youngster    [The Gang (Tray Deee, Ty Cuzz, Bad A$$, Technique)]  Go ride nigga  Bout to go get the homies nigga, right now  [Daz] Oh yeah motherfucker it's on  [The Gang]   Ay come on Bad A$$ let's do it nigga, it's on now nigga  Ay ay nigga  What's up nigga (What's up)  Ay nigga  Nigga the homie called, the big shot today nigga (Word)  Nigga you were ment to meet him today nigga  (Man I take my baby inside today man)  What's up  Nigga   Nigga, Ay, We can't realy talk right now tough nigga (Alright)  But uh, it's going down later on 9-30 nigga  The big man hoe nigga  Be there nigga  Yeah    [Bad A$$ ]What's up Daz Dillinger  [Daz] Shit, Bad A$$, tryin' to keep it realer than real, man  Least half these punk ass....  motherfucking niggas around here bullshittin'  The big spot nigga, ain't clockin' no dollar.  [BA] Man I'm trying to have  Man I ain't trying to go for shit  [DD] Man you know my glock is hot  (Eastside)    Verse One: [Kurupt Tha Kingpin]  I'm coming through your zone late night, shit  Dogg Pound Gangsta to flame the light shit  Cause I hold on,  I'm 20 feet tall  The biggest walkin' bill fuck around to get killed  Get shoot  Don't try to sneak a peak in my book  (?Home at hose?) , overdose the thoughts when he look  The forbidden  The hittin' zone that I'm hitting  Don't play with my intelligence nigga as the heat (?slittin'?)  (?)  So I only got two choices; loc me the blasin' bomb  Vietnam  I bring the pain rains no (?)  Execution style is the shells from the heat veal   Down to the ground like the rest of the dummies  Just what the fuck you thinkin' try to play with my money  It's nothing but the Dogg Pound Gangstas  Mashes, verbal disasters, 38 stashes     Verse Two: [Tray Deee]  I arise in disguise to surprise that ass  What you thought you caught me short  I might ride to blast  With the canna  We let the shit all up in your nuts  When niggas droppin', they stop with the plan they plots  Got to stop for my gate  With (?) of break  Marked niggas caught in, they try to win and get sprayed  Rip the gates  Go flip the page to chapter three  First groove, they fools can't come after me  I mash to free,  styles of catastrophe   Ask for G  A nigga best to answer me  My rip long as the beach that I represent   Dead nigga with my stare not to step to this    Verse Three: [Daz Dillinger]  Now o yeah Tray Deee  I mean I see the whole plot   Be on alert, niggas shot  Anywhere under that nigga caught  So drop the microphone on my own  I shown to blown  Away for these MC's with the sludge of a chrome  I take the fang  Down on my own lyrical name  When the sees are changed ,  when the storms and hurricanes   Wide strand  Spittin' rhymes, the beats so precise   (?)  skatin' on mics like ice  Twice in the day  I get drunk,   (?) of plastic bags  Sack in the truck  because the rhyme as claim   I shit buck like the doctor   Coming through  Bouncin' with the droptop  Like gangstas chillin on the block  Nah, we ain't worry for shit  Got escape doors like Capone  Whit chick your dick on my clip  Forty-fives and nives  Three-eighties and automatics  Sniveling, coming through for you   when your boys with some stats  I got to have eleven to thrill of the drama  Enthusing me to gets my norm with the slaughter  Ought to be known as Daz Dillinger  For the shit that I known for  A Dogg Pound criminal    Verse Four: [Soopafly]  Now if the spot's hot  I hit the switch make the topdrop  Don't stop  It's Soopafly with the sho shot  Won't stop  I got ya whole shit to  Look and listen  I rendition the rhymes with precision   You can't face  Amaze me a place like a saddle   It's Dogg Pound Ganstas (?) like a shadow  I never met a motherfucker who can make you stick   I never met a motherfucker who can feel my clique   You serve, you'll make the twitch like a nerve  You'll try to step to my wild style seperve   Adjective the verve   Action pack with the words  I'll make it stop  The jaws drop and observe  I sold the block for Crook, Daz, Style and Tray Deee  We be coming with the shit  That be the bomb baby  And ain't a Dogg Pound Gangsta will knock you to the flow  Either you stupid as fuck or just don't know    Verse Five: [Bad A$$]  Now I know you, know you,  stupid as fuck  Cock, bust like a sawed off punk,  double barrel on 'em  Black gambinos at casinos   Get De Niro on 'em   If I want 'em  I go get 'em  If I gotta shot a nine  Twice, that's what I rhyme like  My clip ain't empty  Do try to test the ridah  Nativity simply  Bust, I lead inside ya  Find ya  Fear them, frightened for your life  With your last few   Live with hot live from gunblast  Outlaws, outcast   Low life, south last  Long Beach niggas blast  Yeah the b-side is right  The most, the coast  The west, the best  We damn bitches  Sippin', hittin' switches   Dippin' hittin' robbin' niggas  Itchy fingers on triggers  Itty, bitty niggas  Ready for war  We kick down your door  Draw eatin'  Lay everybody down on the floor    Verse Six: [Technique]  The same thing, different place   With snakes, cowards and strong grown  Robbery cases, niggas faces  On paperchase   It was seen, it was written  It ain't forbidden   For homies to be splittin'  Disagree, no one was hitten  Known with the curls   The many obstacles  Impressions to the feet from gettin' served  Growing up is rough  Your name  Here's the streets it gets tough  You can (?) and (?)  Then I guess you had enough  Over (?)  It ain't coincidental that I be distorted   And my manual  Minds  Is for seein', so I watch  Bodies and plots  Win the plots  Call the shots for your nuts   Nigga grips   That's why I (?) my dippin' progress  Cause why is all we tryin' to defeat the progress  I just ain't the one mystic to hit  Young Jonesy sees   Who I got a mission to hit  And constantly flips scripts   Outta wall with balls fast talkin'  And quick draws  How the problem is solved   I want it all (I want it all)  But it's movin' to slow  I'm out to blow  I don't know which way to go,  was on the right path  I thought  Without doin' a dirty word about getting caught  ("getting caught" echoes)