Song Lyrics Collection

Some L.A. Niggaz (Explicit)

Dr. Dre
2008-01-013:27 minSynced lyrics

"Some L.A. Niggaz (Explicit)" is a song by Dr. Dre, released in 2008 in the Pop genre. The song is 3:27 long and contains 76 lines and 613 words.

Lyrics

0:00Yeah ni**a, MC Ren up in this motherf**ker
0:03(West West y'all)
0:05Yeah, L.A. niggaz
0:07L.A. niggaz rule the world ni**a
0:09Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin?
0:12Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin?
0:13But this sh*t come all the way back around here
0:15My ni**a Dre, droppin heat box on y'all b**ch-a**
0:19Yaknahmsayin? You gotta recognize
0:21L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherf**kin world, ni**a
0:25Recognize this
0:26Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag
0:28Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag
0:31G'd from the feet up
0:33Blued up from the Zoo, a pi' grew up
0:36Loc'n, smokin and drinkin til we threw up (threw up)
0:39At Leimert Park, taggin, hittin fools up
0:41Ditchin my class, just to f**k yo' school up
0:44You don't wanna blast, ni**a tuck yo' tool up
0:47But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you
0:49Now there's another motherf**ker with no future
0:52But Time Bomb much smoother when I manuever, d**e like Cuba
0:56Got em jumpin
0:57I'm comin "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose cannon
1:00Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner
1:03Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch
1:06From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha
1:10Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin with Tha Liks
1:12And Hittman bought a fix
1:14Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this b**ch
1:17Here it tick tick tick tick (BOOM)
1:19Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic
1:23W**d and coc*ine sold seperate, check it
1:25From sundown to sunup - clown done run up
1:28The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, ni**a what?
1:31We roll deep, smoke on w**d drink and back heat
1:35Requirements for survival each day - in L.A.!
1:42It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
1:46Analyze why we act this way - in L.A.!
1:52Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move
1:55They call me Hitt - cause I spit like gats do
1:59Cock me back
2:00Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax
2:02Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true
2:05But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you
2:07Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)
2:10Mash on you for your turkish chain, C.K. B.K.
2:14Blued up or flame, I ran with a gang
2:16I helped niggaz get, jacked for they Dana Dane's
2:20My pants hang below my waistline
2:22I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah yeah)
2:23I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline
2:26Don't waste my time
2:27F**k a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's
2:30One-time's, sunshines, and fine-a** b**ches
2:32Hawaiian thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches
2:35I was raised in the hood called WHAT-THE-DIF'
2:38Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood
2:40Slugs for the f**k of it
2:43Anybody hatin on us can suck a dick
2:45If I catch you touchin mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor
2:49Better than yours, drivin away gettin head from a whore
2:51It's AvireX-to-the-Z
2:53F**kin with me might get you banned from TV,
2:56Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time
3:00Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie
3:02What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health
3:05Like puttin a pistol up to your face and blastin yourself
3:08Five in the mornin, burglars at my do'
3:11Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer
3:13Let em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll
3:16Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'
3:19And bruise by the case
3:21SLAP YOU in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced
3:24Likwit Kings with Sedans and gold rings
3:27Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings
Yeah ni**a, MC Ren up in this motherf**ker
(West West y'all)
Yeah, L.A. niggaz
L.A. niggaz rule the world ni**a
Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin?
Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin?
But this sh*t come all the way back around here
My ni**a Dre, droppin heat box on y'all b**ch-a**
Yaknahmsayin? You gotta recognize
L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherf**kin world, ni**a
Recognize this
Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag
Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag
G'd from the feet up
Blued up from the Zoo, a pi' grew up
Loc'n, smokin and drinkin til we threw up (threw up)
At Leimert Park, taggin, hittin fools up
Ditchin my class, just to f**k yo' school up
You don't wanna blast, ni**a tuck yo' tool up
But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you
Now there's another motherf**ker with no future
But Time Bomb much smoother when I manuever, d**e like Cuba
Got em jumpin
I'm comin "Straight Outta Compton" with a loose cannon
Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner
Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch
From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha
Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin with Tha Liks
And Hittman bought a fix
Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this b**ch
Here it tick tick tick tick (BOOM)
Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic
W**d and coc*ine sold seperate, check it
From sundown to sunup - clown done run up
The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, ni**a what?
We roll deep, smoke on w**d drink and back heat
Requirements for survival each day - in L.A.!
It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops
Analyze why we act this way - in L.A.!
Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move
They call me Hitt - cause I spit like gats do
Cock me back
Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax
Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true
But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you
Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)
Mash on you for your turkish chain, C.K. B.K.
Blued up or flame, I ran with a gang
I helped niggaz get, jacked for they Dana Dane's
My pants hang below my waistline
I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah yeah)
I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline
Don't waste my time
F**k a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's
One-time's, sunshines, and fine-a** b**ches
Hawaiian thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches
I was raised in the hood called WHAT-THE-DIF'
Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood
Slugs for the f**k of it
Anybody hatin on us can suck a dick
If I catch you touchin mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor
Better than yours, drivin away gettin head from a whore
It's AvireX-to-the-Z
F**kin with me might get you banned from TV,
Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time
Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie
What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health
Like puttin a pistol up to your face and blastin yourself
Five in the mornin, burglars at my do'
Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer
Let em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll
Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'
And bruise by the case
SLAP YOU in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced
Likwit Kings with Sedans and gold rings
Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings

Translation

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