[Snoop Dogg & (Master P) talking]   Hey yo (Ghetto Postage)   Give me something that makes a nigga wanna pop his motherfuckin' collar   (With a lil' West Coast twist on it)   (Master P and Snoop, ha ha, tah dow, poppin' collars]      [Chorus with Master P & Snoop ad-libs]   Pop those collars   Pop those collars   Pop those collars   That's the just the way we do it   Pop those collars   We changed the game      [Snoop]   Slid up in the door, get up in ya ho   Sippin' on some Mo with Big D from the mad ass 6-0   Stretched out on the couch with some Mary Jane   Doghouse nigga, we all in the same game   An every nigga in my click got the platinum chain   Blang, blang Doggy's Angel's same thang   Eastsidaz same thang, rip riders ask my nephew Kokane      [Master P & Snoop together]   Cause game recognize game and we got it   No Limit and Dogg Pound, we rowdy, get em' up   We bang bang      [Snoop]   On this music that we make ho   In the cars, the clubs, or when we smoke dope   We drop that shit for you kin folk   And poor folks no joke, loc loc   Blaze a sack loc, bust a back stroke   And pop ya motherfuckin' collar till ya break ya back loc      [Chorus with Master P & Snoop ad-libs]      [Master P]   Ah dog we off the heezy   Snoop and P together for cheesy   Poppin' collars from the South to the Wizest   We off, see the tank around our nizeck   We O.G. show me love   And the Baker Boys started the buzz   Now we California livin' like Dre and Pac   And them No Limit boys, see we can't be stopped   Me and E-Feezy go way on the bizack   Remember Baby D, TRU it and Prizack   My essay homie, chop chop got the dizope   While me and Xzibit was ballin' by cizoast   I'm the black Slim Shady so don't try to play me   Turn a six into a Bentley and drive em' crazy   Roll up to Eastside back to the West   Represent Richmond, California to the South, respect      [Chorus with Master P & Snoop ad-libs]      [Snoop]   I'll bless you before I diss you   Y'all miss me, shit I miss you   So sweet, so sure but so low   So just let it all go, serious we sick of this   Dog homie, ask ya kids they put chu' up on it   On the corners they poppin' they collars   While back in the days, shit niggas used to stack they dollars   Make a nigga wanna holler   Playas, pimp, p-poppers, impersonators   Real rip riders, Eastsidaz and regulators   Haters come in all shapes, sizes and colors   But we on top of thangs so they can't get above us   Hate us or love us, we rollin' with the heat huggers   Thuggers, house party niggas fuck clubbers   With anine in my pockets, poppin' my collar pushin' and shovin'      [Hook with Master P & Snoop ad-libs to fade]