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    Snoop Dogg
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    Pimp Slapp'd

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    Pimp Slapp'd
    Released


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      About "Pimp Slapp'd"

      Lyrics for Snoop Dogg - "Pimp Slapp'd"

      [DJ E-Z Dick]
      W-Balls, it's your main man DJ E-Z Dick
      About to unleash another one of those platinum plus hits
      And the word is on the streets, and the word is the streets
      We goin' go to a live remote, licking wit my main man Mr Doggy Dogg

      [Snoop Dogg]
      A day in the life, of a Rollin 20 Crip
      I'm just a stubborn type of fella with a head like a brick
      And just because I sip Moet, they say that I'm hopeless
      But I don't give a fuck, so blame it on the loc'ness
      Now this is how we do it when we checking the grip
      Snoop Dogg is in this bitch, so don't even trip
      I bust a funky composition that's smooth as a prism
      Now check it as I kick off in this funky ass rhythm
      It's six dub, the phone is ringing off the deck
      And it's some homies talking about I disrespected they set
      Aww no, Dogg ain't this y'all
      I got couple relatives up off of Crenshaw
      This is about me and Simon, not me and y'all
      I got love for a bunch of real be -Dogs
      Like K-Dub, Top Cat, be -Reel, E-Rock, Boo-Lay Face
      And the homie Har'ron rest in peace
      Big Jay from Cappinella Park
      He used to blaze with his nephew after dark
      On and on, rocking big neck bone
      Mauseberg I had to put you on my song
      It's so real, I had show some love
      Now back to the scrub, it ain't about Crip or Blood
      It's about you being jealous bout what I does
      cause I does it the most, the King of The Coast, in a Pink Plaint Pos
      I back ya down like Shack Daddy, and bust on ya out the new Caddy
      And skirt up Wiltshire Boulevard
      I'm not Xzibit, you can't pull my hoe card
      I fucked all your groupies, when you was doing time and kept Snoopy
      With the fags & snitches, no killers just bitches
      And you was paying niggas off of all my riches
      You so hard caught, why ain't you go to level 4? Oh I know (bitch)
      But I walk the main line every time I go down
      You can check my G Files, I do it LBC style
      I got the word on ya Simon (Simon), you need to just start rhyming
      cause you the biggest star on your label
      And them other niggas just crumbs off my table, you're not able
      To compete with the heat that I drop
      And I still ain't been paid, for One-Eight-Seven On A Cop
      I started yo shit, and I'll end yo shit
      If you keep talking shit on Crip

      [Chorus]
      It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack(jealous
      Ass nigga)
      It all boils down to the fact that you're jealous of my paper stack
      (gon get pimp slapped) [Repeat: x2]

      Money, I get it, paper I got it
      Heaters, I keep em, bitches I got em [Repeat: x2]

      [Snoop Dogg]
      If I shoot you, I'll be brainless, and you'll be famous
      And I'll be spending money out the anus
      Your only gain is to try to get me to fall down to your level
      Man you worser than devils
      A lot of niggas should've said it, fuck em
      But I'ma say it for em, stop it, pop it, rewind and play it for em
      This nigga's a bitch like his wife
      Suge Knight's a bitch, and that's on my life
      And I'ma let the whole world see
      Cause you fucked up the industry, and that's on me
      We can go head up, nigga, set it up
      Or we can do the other thing, I love to wet it up
      Your rappers and artists, tell em, shut it up
      Cause I'll fuck every last one of em up, especially Kurupt
      See that's my lil' homeboy, so he knows what's up
      He better keep it Crippin, and slip his clip in
      Cause these niggas tripping, this is official business
      Do the same way, leave no witnesses
      This is that unexpected diss directed, sprayed, covered and protected
      Strip you butt naked, chicky-check-check-it
      It's all to the good again
      You can catch Snoopy Dibby Double in the hood again
      Spinning that real times, spitting that real shit
      To make the whole world feel it
      So put the bacon in the skillet, and try to peel it
      Cause Doggystyle Records is the realest, nigga

      [Chorus]

      Money, I get it, paper I got it
      Heaters, I keep em, bitches I got em
      Money, I get it, paper I got it
      Jealous ass nigga

      SONGWRITERS:
      Broadus, Calvin / Collins, William Bootsy / Worrell, Bernard / Clinton, George S / Blake, David / Rodgers, Nile Gregory / Durham, Norman Anthony / Leimberg, Josef / Edwards, Bernard
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