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作词 : A. Young/T. McCray/M. Mathers/F. Nassar/A. Joiner/V. Smith
作曲 : A. Young/T. McCray/M. Mathers/F. Nassar/A. Joiner/V. Smith
Yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
What? (Uh) What? (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Dre, you ready? (Woo, woo, woo, woo)
C'mon (Yo, we gotta do whatever)
Alright (Check, check, check, check, check)
Get 'em!
Cut 'em undercover, timeless
Ready for 'em, progress
Feelin' like I'm just gettin' started
Two shots back for my dearly departed
Uh, you are now dеalin' with a monster
Boss shit, profits
Doc Dre, bitch, I'm a prophet
Black Wall Street, niggas know whеre the stock is
Heh, try me
Niggas never see me, but it ain't hard to find me
Heh, unwinding
Shit's blinding, still grinding
Uprising, agh
Stop talking 'bout the past, I'm the future, nigga
Agh
Nigga like me still here, mother****er, go figure
Lookin' for my next gold digger
This summer here gon' be colder than winter
Already told you, I fold you like hundreds of billions
And you can go missing, put that on my children
Bet that, nigga, what?
Regret that, run it up
Heh, and I'm about to sum it up
This shit here that problem
Livin' at the bottom of a bottle
"Full throttle" my motto, eh
****ing with me like ****ing with the lotto
That awful in your nostril
In a brothel, this is gospel
Yeah, I'ma need all that, pronto
Yes, I, yes, I, yes, I ride 'til I die
Give a **** if you bitches die
Put a mother****ing hole in your face
Back up, bitch, don't even try
I am that mother****er, been the coldest
Why you on that? No one know us
Overdosed on what **** is (Yeah)
Hip-hop shit sell better than the coke did
Like a satanic cult, it's
An old ritual slaughtering GOATs, bitch (GOATs, bitch, yeah)
You're ****ing with the original, flow's sick
And anybody can get it—COVID (****ing with that?)
I done wrote shit
That was so sharp, I could slit my own ****ing throat with it
So rich, I got more chips than my shoulders
And I'm about as approachable as a roach is (Roach is)
Yeah, so better steer clear from him
Here comes a nuclear bomb for your eardrums
Lyricism at its most fearsome and fierce
We're on another tier like a tear duct's upper echelon (Yeah)
Your career sucked (Meaning what?), it was sheer luck (Like what?)
Like a ****ing leprechaun with its beard cut
(Still a) Punisher, weapon drawn with a beer gut (Haha)
You're slower than a Decepticon with its gear stuck
(And I what?) I serial kill, and you're Kellogg's (What?)
I love checks and I hate tricks
And you're a fake bitch (bitch)
I could spot you like you 'bout to weight lift (Yeah)
Bitch, I'm badder than cake mix
(But I) Can't be whipped with egg beaters (Nah)
You bitches must be out of your minds
And God is my alias, so if I don't have faith in me
Then it basically makes me an atheist (Woo!)
Nate Diaz got the world by the tracheas
In a chokehold and a sleeper (*Snores*)
Yeah, and me and Dre are like dog hair (Woof)
We're both in our lab coats like retrievers (Grrr)
But like a Doberman, I'm a whole different breed of (What?)
Animal mutt mixed with a overachiever (Yeah)
Oh, you're the king of rap? You're 'bout to be overthrown
Like a pass over the head of an open receiver
This shit could end up comin' to blows like a wiener (Haha)
But I ain't finished puttin' these hoes through the wringer (Nah)
Like clothes in between the two rollers, and– wait, no
What I mean is flows interwoven, I treat 'em like thread (Why?)
That's how I wound up sewin' Machine up
So, ****s, if you don't give up me, then
Time to ride or die, 'cause you're either both or you're neither (Yeah, yeah)
Throw a middle finger up if you're rollin', but, me, I'm gonna— (Yeah, yeah)
Ride 'til I die
Give a **** if you bitches die
Put a mother****ing hole in your face
Back up, bitch, don't even try
I am that mother****er, been the coldest
Why you on that? No one know us
Overdosed on what **** is
Hip-hop shit sell better than the coke did
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