Snoop Dogg, Big Tray Deee - 21 Jumpstreet lyrics
Snoop Dogg [Calvin Cordozar Broadus Jr.] Long Beach, California, U.S 🇺🇸
[Snoop Dogg, Big Tray Deee - 21 Jumpstreet lyrics]
Smoking a fat sack
Right here on the station that plays
Only platinum hit's, W Ballz
My dicks in your ear
Caller you wanna say what?
Hello? Hello? Caller? Oh the hell with it
This is something new for the underground
In the LB see you when I get back
Dedicated to the East Side, Two One Street
My favorite and your favorite
Snoop Froggy Dogg and somebody
New Tha Dogg Pound
Check it out right here on the
Station that plays only platinum hit's
1874 on your FM dial
We be taking caller number 21
For those Janet Jackson tickets
So call in, 310-DAPOUND
That's 310-POUND bitch that's Da Pound
Hear ye, hear ye, come one come all
It's the first annual G-nic and all my Doggs
Are invited, so go on and light it
Cause it's the first time in a long time
(right)
Reminiscing about the Fresh Fest back in '85
When the dubs and the San
Dieg's used to hoo ride
On motherfuckers like it was the thing to do
Eighty-five, eighty-fo', eight-three
And year eighty-two (eighty-two)
You know what the fuck I'm talking about
After party on the lake at
The big homie's house
And bet nobody bring a motherfucking gun
Cause everybody in the house's from two-one
Twenty-first street, burst street
Where it all started
And you know East Side, Long Beach
The hardest
Niggas coming realer than The Real McCoy
So step with your rap and we bring the noise
It's the gang of fly bitches
Homiez on the switches
Dice in the back if ya wanna get your riches
No snitches allowed inside the crowd
Cause this is the G thang
East Side LBC brang
Finna have some fun represent two-one
And bet nobody bring a mothafucking gun and a
Yeah, King Park was the location
And to be a G, that was my destination
(We were) lookin' up to niggas
Coming up before me
And LBC 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)
Tatataratatatara
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
(and forever get a loc on)
Strolling through the Park one day
Puffing on a fat ass J
With my homie named Tray
Deee tryin' to see if we
Could put this LBC thing
Back together like it was supposed to see
Cause ya know I'm down with ya
To make 'em get the picture
And if I have to sit ya, down then I spit ya
Game from the heart, I came from the start
See I was regulating
When Cragars was the Daytons
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 Laters
While I'm rolling with the Steelers
And killin' with the raiders
And when we bang with the Saints
Then we ain't no joke
Come around from outta bounds and
We goes for broke
Now 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
This tight ass beat
With a small dedication, to two-one street
Right here on the station that plays
Only platinum hit's, W Ballz
My dicks in your ear
Caller you wanna say what?
Hello? Hello? Caller? Oh the hell with it
This is something new for the underground
In the LB see you when I get back
Dedicated to the East Side, Two One Street
My favorite and your favorite
Snoop Froggy Dogg and somebody
New Tha Dogg Pound
Check it out right here on the
Station that plays only platinum hit's
1874 on your FM dial
We be taking caller number 21
For those Janet Jackson tickets
So call in, 310-DAPOUND
That's 310-POUND bitch that's Da Pound
Hear ye, hear ye, come one come all
It's the first annual G-nic and all my Doggs
Are invited, so go on and light it
Cause it's the first time in a long time
(right)
Reminiscing about the Fresh Fest back in '85
When the dubs and the San
Dieg's used to hoo ride
On motherfuckers like it was the thing to do
Eighty-five, eighty-fo', eight-three
And year eighty-two (eighty-two)
You know what the fuck I'm talking about
After party on the lake at
The big homie's house
And bet nobody bring a motherfucking gun
Cause everybody in the house's from two-one
Twenty-first street, burst street
Where it all started
And you know East Side, Long Beach
The hardest
Niggas coming realer than The Real McCoy
So step with your rap and we bring the noise
It's the gang of fly bitches
Homiez on the switches
Dice in the back if ya wanna get your riches
No snitches allowed inside the crowd
Cause this is the G thang
East Side LBC brang
Finna have some fun represent two-one
And bet nobody bring a mothafucking gun and a
Yeah, King Park was the location
And to be a G, that was my destination
(We were) lookin' up to niggas
Coming up before me
And LBC 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)
Tatataratatatara
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
(and forever get a loc on)
Strolling through the Park one day
Puffing on a fat ass J
With my homie named Tray
Deee tryin' to see if we
Could put this LBC thing
Back together like it was supposed to see
Cause ya know I'm down with ya
To make 'em get the picture
And if I have to sit ya, down then I spit ya
Game from the heart, I came from the start
See I was regulating
When Cragars was the Daytons
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 Laters
While I'm rolling with the Steelers
And killin' with the raiders
And when we bang with the Saints
Then we ain't no joke
Come around from outta bounds and
We goes for broke
Now 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
This tight ass beat
With a small dedication, to two-one street