Letra Pimp Slapp’d (Suge Knight Diss) - Snoop Dogg
W-Balls, it's your main man DJ E-Z Dick
About to unleash another one of those platinum plus hits
And the word is on the streets, and the word is the streets
And we gon' go to a live remote and check in with my main man, Mr. Doggy Dogg
A day in the life, of a Rollin' 20 Crip
I'm just a stubborn type of fella with a head like a brick
Now just because I sip Moet, they say that I'm hopeless
But I don't give a fuck, so blame it on the Loc'ness (Uh-huh)
Now this is how we do it when we checking the grip
Snoop Dogg is in this bitch, so don't even trip
I bust a funky composition that's as smooth as a prism
So check it while I kick off in this funky-ass rhythm
It's six dub, the phone is ringing off the deck
And it's some homies talking about I disrespected they set
Aww nah, Dogg ain't diss y'all
I got a couple Relatives up off of Crenshaw
This is about me and Simon, not me and y'all
I got love for a bunch of real B-Dogs
Like K-Dub, Top Kat, B-Real, E-Rock, Bool-Aid, Face
And the homie Heron, rest in peace
Big Jay from Campanella Park
He used to blaze with his nephew after dark
On and on, rocking big Neckbone
Mausberg, I had to put you on my song
It's so real, I had to show some love
Now back to this scrub, it ain't about Crip or Blood
It's about you bein' jealous of what I does
'Cause I does it the most, the king of the coast
In the paint playin' post - I back you down
Like Shaq-Daddy, and bust on ya out the new Caddy
And skirt up Wilshire Boulevard
I'm not Xzibit, you can't pull my hoe card (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
I fucked all your groupies
When you was doing time in Camp Snoopy
With the fags and snitches (uh-huh), no killers just bitches
And you was payin' niggas off with all my riches
You so hardco', why you ain't go to level fo'?
Oh, I know (Bitch!)
But I walk the mainline every time I go down
You can check my G Files, I do it L.B.C. style (Crip!)
I got the word on you, Simon
You need to just start rhymin'
'Cause you the biggest star on your label
And them other niggas just crumbs off my table
You're not able, to compete with the heat that I drop
And I still ain't been paid, for "1-8-7 on a Cop"
I started yo' shit and I will end yo' shit
If you keep talkin shit, on Crip! (Crip!)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Jealous-ass nigga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Don't get pimp slapped)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Jealous-ass nigga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Don't get pimp slapped)
Money, get it
Paper, I got it
I got to do it (Get it, get it)
Heaters, I keep 'em
Bitches, I got 'em
Run up, ya get done up, I stay one up
Money, I get it
Paper, I got it (I got it)
Huh, I got to do it
Heaters, I keep 'em
Bitches, I got 'em
Run up, ya get done up, I stay one up
If I shoot you, I'll be brainless, and you'll be famous
And I'll be spending money out the anus
Your only gain is to try to get me to fall down to your level
Man, you worse than them devils
A lotta niggas should've said it, fuck 'em
But I'ma say it for 'em, stop it, pop it, rewind and play it for 'em
This nigga's a bitch like his wife
Suge Knight's a bitch, and that's on my life (Haha)
And I'ma let the whole world see
'Cause you fucked up the industry, and that's on me
We can go head up, nigga, set it up
Or we can do the other thing, I love to wet it up
Your rappers and artists, tell 'em, shut it up
'Cause I'll fuck every last one of 'em up, especially Kurupt (Shhhhhhh)
See that's my lil' homeboy, so he know what's up (What's up)
He better keep it Crippin', and slip his clip in
'Cause these niggas trippin', this is official business
Do the same way, leave no witnesses
This is that unexpected, misdirected
Sprayed, covered and protected
Strip you butt naked, chicky-check-check-it (Check-check-it)
It's all to the good again
You can catch Snoopy D.O. double in the hood again (Eastside Rollin'!)
Spinning that real times, spitting that real shit
To make the whole world feel it (Feel it, feel it)
So put the bacon in the skillet (haha), and try to peel it
'Cause Doggystyle Records is the realest, nigga
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Jealous-ass nigga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Don't get pimp slapped)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Jealous-ass nigga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Don't get pimp slapped)
Money, get it
Paper, I got it
(I got to do it)
Heaters, I keep 'em
Bitches, I got 'em
Money, I get it
Paper, I got it
Jealous-ass nigga
(Don't get pimp slapped)
Hm hm hm hm
Ay Snoop, what's up, dog?
Ay, this Big Jim Bob from Campanella Park, homie
Uhhh, I know I ain't seen you in a while, boy
I ain't seen you since 'bout, uhhh, shitttt
See about '92, '93 or some old shit like that, man, but uhhh
This Jacob big brother, homie
Uhh, got much love for you, boy, just heard the little cut you put out, uhhh, the other day
You know, uhh, I got much love for you, boy
And like you said, man, expose that big old, fake-ass nigga Simon, man
That nigga ain't never been from the streets, man
I seen, I met that nigga in '90, man, that nigga popped up, I don't know where that nigga came from
But anyway, man, this Jim Bob from Campanella Park, homie
Uhh, Mausberg, uhh, big homeboy and Jay big brother
So, uhhh, you know I'll holla at you later out there on the streets, man
I see you man, keep your head up, boy
And niggas over there in the neighborhood got your back, dog
Alright
One love, big homie
Keep it straight
End of message
About to unleash another one of those platinum plus hits
And the word is on the streets, and the word is the streets
And we gon' go to a live remote and check in with my main man, Mr. Doggy Dogg
A day in the life, of a Rollin' 20 Crip
I'm just a stubborn type of fella with a head like a brick
Now just because I sip Moet, they say that I'm hopeless
But I don't give a fuck, so blame it on the Loc'ness (Uh-huh)
Now this is how we do it when we checking the grip
Snoop Dogg is in this bitch, so don't even trip
I bust a funky composition that's as smooth as a prism
So check it while I kick off in this funky-ass rhythm
It's six dub, the phone is ringing off the deck
And it's some homies talking about I disrespected they set
Aww nah, Dogg ain't diss y'all
I got a couple Relatives up off of Crenshaw
This is about me and Simon, not me and y'all
I got love for a bunch of real B-Dogs
Like K-Dub, Top Kat, B-Real, E-Rock, Bool-Aid, Face
And the homie Heron, rest in peace
Big Jay from Campanella Park
He used to blaze with his nephew after dark
On and on, rocking big Neckbone
Mausberg, I had to put you on my song
It's so real, I had to show some love
Now back to this scrub, it ain't about Crip or Blood
It's about you bein' jealous of what I does
'Cause I does it the most, the king of the coast
In the paint playin' post - I back you down
Like Shaq-Daddy, and bust on ya out the new Caddy
And skirt up Wilshire Boulevard
I'm not Xzibit, you can't pull my hoe card (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
I fucked all your groupies
When you was doing time in Camp Snoopy
With the fags and snitches (uh-huh), no killers just bitches
And you was payin' niggas off with all my riches
You so hardco', why you ain't go to level fo'?
Oh, I know (Bitch!)
But I walk the mainline every time I go down
You can check my G Files, I do it L.B.C. style (Crip!)
I got the word on you, Simon
You need to just start rhymin'
'Cause you the biggest star on your label
And them other niggas just crumbs off my table
You're not able, to compete with the heat that I drop
And I still ain't been paid, for "1-8-7 on a Cop"
I started yo' shit and I will end yo' shit
If you keep talkin shit, on Crip! (Crip!)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Jealous-ass nigga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Don't get pimp slapped)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Jealous-ass nigga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Don't get pimp slapped)
Money, get it
Paper, I got it
I got to do it (Get it, get it)
Heaters, I keep 'em
Bitches, I got 'em
Run up, ya get done up, I stay one up
Money, I get it
Paper, I got it (I got it)
Huh, I got to do it
Heaters, I keep 'em
Bitches, I got 'em
Run up, ya get done up, I stay one up
If I shoot you, I'll be brainless, and you'll be famous
And I'll be spending money out the anus
Your only gain is to try to get me to fall down to your level
Man, you worse than them devils
A lotta niggas should've said it, fuck 'em
But I'ma say it for 'em, stop it, pop it, rewind and play it for 'em
This nigga's a bitch like his wife
Suge Knight's a bitch, and that's on my life (Haha)
And I'ma let the whole world see
'Cause you fucked up the industry, and that's on me
We can go head up, nigga, set it up
Or we can do the other thing, I love to wet it up
Your rappers and artists, tell 'em, shut it up
'Cause I'll fuck every last one of 'em up, especially Kurupt (Shhhhhhh)
See that's my lil' homeboy, so he know what's up (What's up)
He better keep it Crippin', and slip his clip in
'Cause these niggas trippin', this is official business
Do the same way, leave no witnesses
This is that unexpected, misdirected
Sprayed, covered and protected
Strip you butt naked, chicky-check-check-it (Check-check-it)
It's all to the good again
You can catch Snoopy D.O. double in the hood again (Eastside Rollin'!)
Spinning that real times, spitting that real shit
To make the whole world feel it (Feel it, feel it)
So put the bacon in the skillet (haha), and try to peel it
'Cause Doggystyle Records is the realest, nigga
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Jealous-ass nigga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Don't get pimp slapped)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Jealous-ass nigga)
It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Don't get pimp slapped)
Money, get it
Paper, I got it
(I got to do it)
Heaters, I keep 'em
Bitches, I got 'em
Money, I get it
Paper, I got it
Jealous-ass nigga
(Don't get pimp slapped)
Hm hm hm hm
Ay Snoop, what's up, dog?
Ay, this Big Jim Bob from Campanella Park, homie
Uhhh, I know I ain't seen you in a while, boy
I ain't seen you since 'bout, uhhh, shitttt
See about '92, '93 or some old shit like that, man, but uhhh
This Jacob big brother, homie
Uhh, got much love for you, boy, just heard the little cut you put out, uhhh, the other day
You know, uhh, I got much love for you, boy
And like you said, man, expose that big old, fake-ass nigga Simon, man
That nigga ain't never been from the streets, man
I seen, I met that nigga in '90, man, that nigga popped up, I don't know where that nigga came from
But anyway, man, this Jim Bob from Campanella Park, homie
Uhh, Mausberg, uhh, big homeboy and Jay big brother
So, uhhh, you know I'll holla at you later out there on the streets, man
I see you man, keep your head up, boy
And niggas over there in the neighborhood got your back, dog
Alright
One love, big homie
Keep it straight
End of message
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