[ Dr. Dre ]  Hey yo, check this out, y'all  Since we almost at the last song  Won't y'all kick some of that fly-ass gangsta shit?    [ KM.G ]  Alright    Once again, a black nigga named KM.G  And now it's time to drop some real pimpin shit  Knowledge it, cause we livin like hustlers  Comin from U.S.C.  For those that don't know  That's the University of South Central  So bless the 40oz.  Cautse his is somethin to jump on  Why, you can drink whatever  Like I said before, ain't nothin changed but the weather  'bout to take you to a higher plateau of hustlers  Hustlers beyond control  Homies ranchin, rollin nationally, clockin hoes  We was there when the pimpin shit was put down  Yo, 187  (What's up, man?)  Yo, this shit is flowin  (Muthafuckin right, it is)  Yeah, let's take our time and do it the way a player would  (Alright)    Okay!  [ VERSE 1: Cold 187um & KM.G ]  Here we go, flowin on and on  What's this we're doin so well? That's the name of the song  Let's break it down, we're rollin nationally, clockin hoes  Well, just to turn em into freaks, but if they turn to foes  We don't need em, we know too many backstabbers now  In our face they say they're with it, behind they back they put us down  And try to clown a player like me, 187 from 'Mona  And my homie the rancher from the city of Toners  I hit a corner, cause they ballers in L.A.  We give our props to the homies that be clockin on the Trey  They sayin, "What's up, gees, tell me what's happenin  I heard you're clockin dollars, but you're still out there rappin"  You should know, it's my cash flow, now I'm just hangin  With these beats called dope and these rhymes that I'm slingin  That are so fly, we can't deny, we must reply  If we twist it in two zags, we can all get high  Off this shit, it's so legit, label it Chronic  Cause if our rhymes was a robot, they'd all be Bionic  Get up and get with it, if not, we feel we're owin  Throw your hands in the air while we keep on flowin    [ Cold 187um ]  Yo KM.G, I think we got em locked on  See, flowin is a art from the heart of a player  So we gon' do the next one like this, man    [ VERSE 2: Cold 187um & KM.G ]  People say we have such strange vocabulary  To find these words you need a underground dictionary  Plus trey lifetimes of the inner city knowledge  And to get this, boy, you see, you can't go to college  Now see, you gotta be around when the shit goes down  Not only spectating, man, you gotta throw down  Yeah, and check em in a bottle like if you were at Ceasar's  Or maybe over somethin like money and skeezers  That's why we got this rule: first come, first served  And if you don't know the meaning, just listen to the words  I'm sayin, I don't be playin when I'm housin the scene  I keep my Locs on, because I know you on fiend  But I take them off, it's just because I'm scrappin  But I put em back on as I commence to rappin  Well, we do a show, rock the house and get paid  Take a bitch to the mote, then get laid  Send her home with a smile, cause it's worth her while  She's to the homies how she did it and she went the mile  I'm talkin whole nine yards, if you can understand  Cause I'm a playin muthafucka and I'm in demand  So flow on    [ KM.G ]  See  Untouchable players in effect  Makin all the big pay-offs  Callin all the shots   Ballin  Punishin punk muthafuckas on the 12-gauges  I call on K-oss  Knowledge Over Sucker-Spinners  Dopeness jumpin off  Gots to be platinum-bound  O.G. G-O, a mack, a arson, a chiller and a killer  A double-dose of the mega-flex  Like all you gees that think you're niggas with attitudes  You ain't got it like that  Cause Ruthless done fixed that  (Hey yo, what happened to peace?)  Fuck peace  I'm outta here