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作词 : Darold Brown/Rakim Mayers/Frank Parra
作曲 : Darold Brown/Rakim Mayers/Frank Parra
Arf, arf, arf
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (Right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Now where my dawgs at?
(Frankie ***********' P)
I said get at me
I'm talkin' to you ****** with that rap beef
Get at me
Ostrich-skin seats like it's acne
Get at me
Never tacky, jeans made by Acne
**** Governor Pataki and Patakis
It's about to get uglier than Balenciagas
Felt bad I never finished college
Now we ******' cuties with booties in Dapper Dan silk pajamas
Livin' the dream, open up your eyelids
Me and Flacko on a island with a few bad b*****s
How my cousin make a mil' off a du-rag business?
All my dawgs with the s**t, you with a few cat litters
All the yellow with the black like the Wu back (Su)
Back when I was rentin' beds, I was still catchin' head
If I was bussin' dishes, I'd be still ******' b*****s
Boof pack, gift wrapped just like Christmas
Gone for a minute, now I'm back, did you miss me?
Had the whole Harlem World wearin' Under Armours
Under the armors, I'm a pretty ***********' comma
Gorgeous comma, pretty much about to **** your mama
Kinda runnin' late for this meetin' with Obama
I ain't mean it to rhyme, but call me when your mind right
Meet me with your romper, CC me when the vibe right
More money, more problem, more chopper, more drama
And I got these hoes, feelin' like Mo Bamba
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Now where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Who gon' do what? My dawgs gon' tool up
*****, look out, 'cause look down like one, two, ******
And we don't give two *****
Where I'm from, you lunch, you food
****** called your bluff
Pockets Warren Buffett, security guard too buff
I like my songs screwed up
I own a gold toothbrush, I get my gold tooth buffed
I'ma stomp a ***** out in Timberland nubuck
Young Buck, too buck, Benz truck, new truck
Big horns, tuba, more good than Cuba
They tried to hit us like Huey with the armpits up
But we swerved through the bullets, get your targets up
Hood Pope up in this *****, in Trap Lord we trust
Now where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Now where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
I said get at me
I'm talkin' to you ****** with that rap beef
Get at me
Ostrich-skin seats like it's acne
Get at me
Never tacky, jeans made by Acne
**** Governor Pataki and Patakis
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