Lyrics
(Uh) ha-ha-ha, I'm serious, nigga
One of y'all niggas got some bad motherfuckin' breath
(Uh, ayy, shit) ayy baby, ayy baby
Ayy baby, get some bubblegum in this muhfucker or somethin'
Ayy, nigga, get somethin' to eat, dog
Study long, study wrong, nigga

With so much drama in the L-B-C
It's kinda hard bein' Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin' up with funky ass shit like every single day
May I kick a little something for the G's (yeah)
And make a few ends as I breeze through (yeah)
Two in the mornin' and the party's still jumpin' 'cause my mama ain't home
I got bitches in the livin' room gettin' it on
And they ain't leavin' 'til six in the mornin' (six in the mornin')
So what you wanna do? Shit
I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too
So turn off the lights and close the doors
But (but what?) We don't love them hoes, yeah
So we gon' smoke a ounce to this
Gs up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Laid back (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Laid back (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)

Now that I got me some Seagram's gin
Everybody got they cups, but they ain't chipped in
Now this types of shit happens all the time
You gotta get yours, but fool, I gotta get mine
Everything is fine when you listenin' to the D-O-G
I got the cultivatin' music that be captivating he
Who listens to the words that I speak
As I take me a drink to the middle of the street
And get to mackin' to this bitch named Sadie (Sadie?)
She used to be the homeboy's lady (oh, that bitch?)
Eighty degrees when I tell that bitch please
Raise up off these N-U-T's, 'cause you gets none of these
At ease, as I mob with the Dogg Pound, feel the breeze
Beyotch, I'm just

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Laid back (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Laid back (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)

Later on that day
My homie Dr. Dre came through with a gang of Tanqueray
And a fat ass J of some bubonic chronic that made me choke
Shit, this ain't no joke
I had to back up off of it and sit my cup down
Tanqueray and chronic, yeah, I'm fucked up now
But it ain't no stoppin', I'm still poppin'
Dre got some bitches from the city of Compton
To serve me, not with a cherry on top
'Cause when I bust my nut, I'm raisin' up off the cot
Don't get upset girl, that's just how it goes
I don't love you hoes, I'm out the door
And I'll be

Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Laid back (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Laid back (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Beyotch (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Beyotch (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, ENTERTAINMENT ONE U.S. LP, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Andre Romell Young, Calvin Broadus, Harry Wayne Casey, Raymond Guy Turner, Richard Raymond Finch, Steven R Arrington




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