Snoop Dogg - Hoes, Money, & Clout Lyrics
(scratching by daz dillinger)Dogg poundDon colion, whatever, whatever, dogg pound, east sideDon colion, whatever, whatever, dogg pound, east sideDon colion, whatever, whatever, dogg pound, east sideFor all my homies with the eight tray wigs (ride on)And all the playas in the 79 coupes (ride on)For all of my gang affiliates in tha hoppin 68This ones from me to you (ride on)Well, not the under dogg, call me the wonder doggI keep it crackin while Im stackin in this game called rappinNow I kick up my feet like I kick a rhyme to a beatAnd everytime you see me on the streets ,i gots some heatHell, yeah, then pass the beatAnd everybody wanna know whats up with me and master p (ughh)For your concern, you knew there wannt no gimmickWhen I got into some gangsta shit and told you wannt no limitTo the thangs Im gon doNow its really goin down with the dpgcWell, daz did the beat, and kurupt got the heatAnd tray dee, he laid the hook and supafly played the keys (woo, woo)Ughh, it get no realer than this from the lb to the down southAdd more killers to this entourageSouth, west, oh, yesWe in charge and well pull your cardsNo disrespect or disregardsLife in the big lb is gettin hard (so what)So my squad gon mob and drop bombsBring me along, we causin everybody harmChorus 2x:I make ya scream (ahhhhhh)I make ya shout (ooooohhh)Cmon all you partyin peopleLet me turn ya outCuz you know Im all aboutThe hoes, money, and cloutAnd I rock a long beach city (heyyyyyy)All the way down southCan you feel me?I can dig itHoes- take me to the bridgeSnoop dogg, snoop dogg (who)Snoop dogg, snoop dogg (what)Snoop dogg, snoop dogg (who)Snoop dogg, snoop doggWhether in a khaki suit or a pimped stripeIm a g for g and nuttin else for lifeYou can bet your bottom biscuitYou get twisted if you dwellin in my felon intuition (what up)Tha doggfather is a household name>from basketball to alcohol, everybody love the doggIm sure billy king probably got a doggystyle tapeSomewhere hidden in his briefcaseNewsweek, rolling stone, major magazinesDope fiends, prom queens, we too cleanTake a look you aint ever seenOne hip-hop rapstar drop this west coast rap-cordBack to the spot up topWest hills for real, give it up to him (wc)A who bang with diamondTake a hit with big lajeezy before he found some wheezyWith blue colion playin in the backroundOn the behind line with big styleHitting p, lig tell him let it goGame strong, no longer in the rollJust a few names from the respected filesLbc styles, dpg aleI bought a house with a lake in the backMy big holey stack just like thatChorus:
