Snoop Dogg - 21 Jumpstreet Lyrics
Snoop:Hear ye, hear ye, come one come allIt's the first annual G, nigga, and all my DoggsAre invited, so go and enlight itCause it's the first time in a long time (right)Reminiscing about the Fresh Fest back in '85When the dubs and the San Dieg's used to hoo rideOn mother*****ers like it was the thing to doEighty-five, eighty-fo', eight-tray, in year eighty-two (eighty-two)You know what the ***** I'm talking aboutAfter party on the lake at the big homie's houseAnd bet nobody bring a mother*****ing gunCause everybody in the house's from two-oneTray Deee:Twenty-first street, burst street, where it all startedAnd you know East Side, Long Beach, the hardestNiggaz coming realer than The Real McCoySo step with your rap and we bring the noiseIt's the gang of fly *****es, homiez on the switchesDice in the back if ya wanna get your richesNo snitches allowed inside the crowdCause this is the G thang, East Side L.B.C. brangIn to have some fun represent two-oneAnd bet nobody bring a motha*****ing gun and aSnoop:Yeah, King Park was the locationAnd the bigga G that was my destination(We were) lookin up to niggaz coming up before meAnd L.B.C. into my East Side homies (It's like)Nobody can see you, but you (yeah, the East Side's perfect)Nobody can see you, but you (ha ha, now that's worth it)Nobody can see you, but you (hell yeah, the East Side's perfect)Nobody can see you, but you (ha ha, yeah, now that's worth it)TatatataSnoop (Tray):If ya bring a strap, then ya have to trip(so if you're on a mission nigga, go on and dip)We got meat to eat, (freaks to meet)And chronic we can smoke on, (if I ever get a loc on)Strolling through the Park one dayPuffing on a fat ass J. with my homie named TrayDeee tryin' to see if we could put this LBC thingBack together like it was supposed to seeTray:Cause ya know I'm down with ya to make 'em get the pictureAnd if I have to sit ya down then I spit yaGame from the heart, I came from the startSee I was regulating when crackers was the daily'sSnoop:Nigga let me interact with my black croaker sacks*And a gray golf hat tilted to the back (what's up?)Ditchin' Sunday school to get a pack of Now and LatersWhile I'm rolling with the stealers and killin' with the raidersTray:And when we bang with the Saints then we ain't no jokeCome around from outta bounds and we goes for brokeNow we're breaking 'em up (hmm hmm), shaking em up (yeah)And just for a second we're waking 'em up(continue) Giving up game on his tired ass feetWith a small dedication to two-one street
