L-T - Concrete Jungle lyrics

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L-T - Concrete Jungle lyrics

Hoody-hoo! C-Murder, wa**up n***a? You know how we doin No Limit D-P-G-C For the R-2-G Yeah, thats right, check this out my n***a What? what? hahahaha, hahahaha, hahahahaa Oh sh** Verse 1: Snoop Dogg I sees the n***a on the tank with the bank and the cash A house down South, where I plants my stash Gold medallions locked up with hash And the best weed you never had, haha I'm, lookin at mu wody its about that time Master P hooked me up so now I got to get mine These diamonds on my neck let you know I'm fine But man, I'm so anxious like genuine Rap lables, turn tables, it's all a fable So many n***as'll sell their soul for a gold cable I refuse to lose, I want the walkin' G shoes Spit at you about these issues, I bless you I'm not here to diss you, the issue is relevent This cold world'll make you k** a n***a Especially one that's 'bout a dollar bill n***a Do you got it? do you want it? Do you need it? Or will you get it? I get it Big Snoop Dogg said it (n***a) I'm here to shead it , get down Right now (what?) TRU motherf**in records (who?) in in effect with the Dogg Pound (DPG) We're open now And all you n***as from the ghetto lookin' up at me And can't believe I went from nothin' to somethin', believe it G! Picture it, see it, touch it And watch how a real motherf**er does it Chorus:KoKane It's like k** or be k**ed, in this here concrete jungle For black folks, sometimes no don't love no one But if I die before it's time, let it be known, let it be shown I was true to the game full blow And you know.... Verse 2: Eastsidaz Goldie Loc: Yeah, real n***as don't give a f** Wa**up? keep it crackin', lil Tray Deee Bang back lil' homies, don't let them get your chest seen Watch your homies they waitin for you to slip If I was sellin' in yo' shoes them n***a would have been the trip Ghetto see ridin', rollin' till the sun come up No second thoughts about my k**in' I'm the first to duck Blue rag damp ni'a in every one of my pockets Throwin' up high in the sky Known you pissed off Tray Deee: It ain't no fakin of mine It's what I place on the line Paper chase is a crime So ain't takin' no time It's all out till I fall out, full a**ault I want it all like my dog, fresh socks and growth b**hes jockin' how I ball, sh** drops the chrome Blazin' chronic, sippin' tonic, how we live for the three On the street corner, heat, 'cause it's k** or seek he Chorus Verse 3: C-Murder I'ma steal this boo, when the cops behind me It's k** or be k**ed, but them n***as can't find me It's a test everyday, from the South to the West n***as mad, 'cause my n***a Snoop is labelled the best Guess what? OG, in the game of rap And everytime that i see 'em, I get a n***a dept Whats up, to my partners Tray Deee and Goldie Loc Quick motherf**in' n***as, always gon' smoke In the concrete jungle, man you know where it's at It's the place, where you wanna leave, don't wanna be at Believe that, you can check in, but you can't check out Like Rae, everybody doin' their own sh** to get paid You might die, but it all, goes along with the job Even ride, do whatever it takes to survive You a b**h! If you snitch on your friends But you a true motherf**er, you don't f** with the pigs Chorus C-Murder talks 'till fade

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