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fuck wit dre day (and everybody’s celebratin’) (extended club mix) - dr. dre lyrics

[intro: dr. dre]
hah, yeah
h*ll yeah

[jewell]
death row is in the house! yeah!

[dr. dre]
yeah

[verse 1: dr. dre]
mista busta, where the f*ck you at?
can’t scr*p a l!ck, so i know you got your gat
your d*ck on hard from f*ckin’ your road dogs
the hoods you threw up with, n*ggas you grew up with
don’t even respect your ass
that’s why it’s time for the doctor to check your ass, n*gga
used to be my homie, used to be my ace
now i wanna slap the taste out ya mouth
make ya bow down to the row
f*ckin’ me, now i’m f*ckin’ you, lil’ ho
oh, don’t think i forgot, let you slide
let me ride, just another homicide
yeah, it’s me so i’ma talk on
stomping on the easiest streets that you can walk on
so strap on your compton hat, your locs
and watch your back ’cause you might get smoked, loc
and pass the bud and stay low*key
b.g., ’cause you lost all your homie’s love
now call it what you want to
you f*cked with me, now it’s a must that i f*ck with you
[interlude: dr. dre]
you better raise up
yeah, that’s what the f*ck i’m talkin’ about
we have your mothaf*ckin’ record company surrounded
put down the candy and let the little boy go
you know what i’m sayin’? punk motherf*cker
we want eazy! we want eazy! we want eazy!

[verse 2: snoop dogg]
bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
doggy dogg’s in the motherf*ckin’ house
bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
death row’s in the motherf*ckin house
bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
the sounds of a dog brings me to another day
play with my bone, would ya, timmy?
it seems like you’re good for making jokes about your jimmy
well, here’s a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like
i heard she was a ‘frisco dyk*
but f*ck your mama, i’m talking about you and me
toe to toe, tim m*u*t
your bark was loud but your bite wasn’t vicious
and them rhymes you were kickin’ were quite bootylicious
you get with doggy dogg? “oh, is he crazy?”
with your mama and your daddy hollering “baby!”
so won’t they let you know
that if you f*ck with dre, n*gga, you’re f*ckin’ wit death row
and i ain’t even sw*ngin’ them thangs
i’m hollerin’ 187 with my d*ck in your mouth, biatch
[interlude: rbx]
yeah, n*gga, compton and long beach together on this motherf*cker
so you wanna pop that sh*t, get your motherf*ckin’ cranium cracked, n*gga, step on up
now, we ain’t no motherf*ckin’ joke, so remember the name
mighty, mighty d*r
yeah, motherf*cker (the sh*t done hit the fan)

[verse 3: dr. dre & snoop dogg]
now understand this, my n*gga dre can’t be touched
luke’s bending over so luke’s getting f*cked, buster
must’ve thought i was sleazy
or thought i was a mark ’cause i used to hang with eazy
animosity made you speak what you spoke (yeah)
ayo, dre (what up?) chip this n*gga off, loc
if it ain’t another ho that i gots to f*ck with
gap t**th in your mouth so my d*ck’s gots to fit
with my nuts on your tonsils
while you’re on stage rappin’ at your wack*ass concert
and i’ma sn*tch your ass from the backside
and show you how death row pull off that who*ride
now you might not understand me
’cause i’ma rob you in compton and blast you in miami
then we gonna creep to south central
on a street knowledge mission as i steps in the temple
spot him, got him, as i pulls out my strap
got my chrome to the side of his white sox hat
you tryna check my homie, you best check yourself
’cause when you diss dre you diss yourself, motherf*cker (yeah, n*gga)

ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

where’d you get your funk from?
where’d you get your funk from?
where’d you get your funk from?
where’d you get your funk from?

[the lady of rage]
yo, this is chronic patrol
saying you might as well get with this
cause it’s cheaper to funk than it is to pay attention
the chronic patrol is designed for the pimpin’ of the pleasure principle
and you know pimpin’ ain’t easy but somebody got to do it
and the chronic patrol is here to drop more funk
than a dead skunk dumped in a dead skunk’s c*nt, huh
so you know there’s no fakin’ on this funk here
oh me? my name is rage
your funked out street pharmacist
prescribing what ever it takes
to get you chronic’d out!!!!!!!!

where’d you get your funk from?
where’d you get your funk from?
where’d you get your funk from?
where’d you get your funk from?

ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

- dr dre lyrics

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