| Man what’s up with these niggaz out here |
| Mad at us cause we on top |
| I love to see niggaz gettin money |
| Better get it while the gettin is good |
| Get it while you can man |
| And stop hatin me fuckin with my shit cuz I got more hustle than you |
| Get yours get yours baby |
| Verse One: Dr. Dre |
| I’m seeing millions niggaz dont understand |
| know what? Im makin moves, puttin cash behind plans |
| to blow up, will he style like this |
| everyday I parlay, sip Henne and Tanqueray |
| stay in the mix like Alezay |
| V.I.P., my shit parked valet |
| on the prowl again to get honies familiar with the smile again |
| some try to assault Dre, its still cavi |
| Im eatin steak while they struggle to break the slave mentality |
| I givin livin definition long as my hearts tickin |
| I fought and made the world listen |
| Whatever fly Dr. Dre invented |
| turn on the box and let my son watch these studio clowns on 60 inches |
| I push a rover, shit platinum before the sessions over |
| rap master with the Houston heat holder |
| these playas best to get they shit in check |
| cuz when I get my hustle on aint no playin with a full deck |
| Chorus: Ice Cube |
| Lord please, murda my enemies (Yeah) |
| Burn em at a thousand degrees |
| And lord please let me make mo cheese |
| Cuz I aint quite ready to leave (No) |
| Verse Two: Scarface |
| Buck the whole world |
| meant that, gotta stay strapped |
| cuz 99.9 a niggaz, carry they gats |
| Super fist fightin shit might come down to dyin |
| When the time comes down for the tryin I got nine |
| reasons why niggaz shouldnt step in my face |
| with the nonsense, cause I’m always heated and you can taste this |
| Audi little something out the seams a my trousers |
| with no hesitation I got a team to come clown ya |
| I down ya, so let your people know what they face |
| with the type of individual thatll bomb a sub-station |
| Kaboom! and everybody dies outside |
| there aint no escapin the Reaper so dont try |
| Go ahead, close ya eyes, who the next to step? |
| Face down, hit, bleedin on the steps a death |
| Check yo self, you just been invaded by true soldiers |
| December 31st, 96 (the game is over) |
| (I've got all my life to live, plus with all my love to give) |
| Verse Three: Dr. Dre, Scarface |
| Smokin weed I never trail, I lead |
| spendin dough, tripped the cost of a ride like it was pocket money, Gs |
| but these are the things real playas do |
| talkin shit is real things that the hatas do |
| I’m namin you |
| shit’s thick, its time to run for shelter |
| I kept the word, things could happen to marks like it was helter skelter |
| Dear diary, I’m runnin outta pages |
| Fadin, in and out, takin purple hazes |
| The dazes, Revelations in the last stages |
| Red skys institute, the silent horns playin |
| Im prayin with tears in my eyes |
| Cuz Im tryin to make it into eternal peace without dyin |
| But they eyein my bank account with beams on my rover |
| the killa failed to launch his attack (the game is over) |