| Me and You
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| My Buddy, my buddy, my buddy, my buddy
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| And you know that
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| Me and You
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| My Buddy, my buddy, my buddy, my buddy
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| Me and You
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| My Buddy, my buddy, my buddy, my buddy
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| Me and You
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| My Buddy, my buddy, my buddy, my buddy
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| Me and You
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| Verse 1: Daz Dillinger, Knumbskull
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| Who can fade it, two assassins up on the mic
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| Blastin', askin’no questions,
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| when they catch you in a gunfight
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| Kaboom!
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| We still mash as a team
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| As we mash for our dreams
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| Actin’hood niggas for green
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| It’s Dillinger, forfillin',
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| makin’a low outta killin'
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| Pullin’scandalous jeans
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| Forfillin fantasy dreams
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| Catch me on a Costa Rica
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| With a island full of weed, money and bitches
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| On a boat for sweet
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| See when I’m yellin'
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| International help me No colorlines on my Ugly and fine
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| you can sell me
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| I’m glad folks think the same way as I do
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| Cause I stab bitches way down in the Bayou
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| Would you make way for two mo'
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| fo’blows, like you have hoes
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| Stamp a nation wide through the ghetto
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| Fore youngsters, Hennesy sponsors
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| With fore youngsters on a quarter of the map now I do
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| I spin mayor loot and khaki suits
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| Nike’s and cripsacks,
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| Wetsuits and leather boots
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| I block niggas twice with thighs
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| Buck with a .45
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| Make you open while you blast at the parking lot
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| What you speakin’on
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| Wanna go through it Drink a lot, made from fluid
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| Scrump bitch, don’t you hear the music
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| My buddy, Daz Dilly and Knubskully
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| You will be thanked
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| With you’re petty pang petty
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| What, What, What, What you’re livin here
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| To live the life that gangstas do
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| (my buddy, my buddy)
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| Verse 2: Kurupt, Yukmouth
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| Check it out
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| No bitch ass niggas, no funny ass hoes
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| Dogg Pound Gangstas drippin’in low-lows
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| You ain’t all about the homies
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| You besta check the fault
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| Pencils, playin’niggas in the crowd style
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| Thinkin''bout the row outta town
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| With the heater cock bust a million rounds
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| Dogg Pound internationals
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| Drippin’off fools
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| While the dock can bust
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| The facility touch
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| I made the game down correct
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| And kissed my belt like I was James Brown
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| Spin around with the twist on the ground
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| Turn a diss in the pound
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| Dogg Pound live around,
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| niggas hittin’the ground
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| Fuck around and get shot up I tear shit up You can ask Puff
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| Let M.C.'s, Mary J. B. and Jodeci
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| About that nigga Yuk means the hardcore
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| You’re kicked off tour
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| For piss marking on the hotel floor
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| G riders, We ride, DP ride
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| Get the mashin’niggas
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| Or the mat see automatic,
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| get the blastin’niggas
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| Shakin’nigga, bankin’nigga
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| Quit the heater
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| Stop blankin’niggas
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| I’m jack style
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| Surrounded by weed smoke
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| See me and my peoples in the club,
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| thugged up, suited in steet clothes
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| We roll, cut dough
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| Cause we so On triple gold, see hoes
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| With weed with me and my amigo
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| Verse 3: The Luniz, Tha Dogg Pound
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| Who did that, who shitted
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| Who spoke on the ghetto row, You
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| Who supa-dupu flyyyyy
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| I gave it to the test players I will come back
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| Why don’t you meet me over in the O, Homie
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| Cause when I get there,
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| the hoes will be all off on me
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| I know y’all got a gang of bitches…
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| …Ha, ha And like fabulous thangs and livin’life persutive
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| In nights machine dippin'
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| With a pocket full of c-notes
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| Cruise the block with a 9 lookin’for weed-o
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| And oh yeah, who got the gangsta shit
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| Daz and Kurupt and Knumbskull and Yuk for shit bitch
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| I’m still a player, pop the slinger
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| Ice-cream and (?)
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| Rockin’Hillfiger just like a dada
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| I rock around the house of rockwilder,
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| just like a mobster
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| Time to clock me, Daz, Kurupt and Knumb in the Impala |