Tim Dog — Medley

Yea Return of the golden era, nigga It's your boy, Tim Dog Fuck what ya'll niggas talking about The golden era Where I'm from We still spit on ya'll niggas Ya'll new niggas ain't shit [Verse One] Lay shit down Put it up nigga Double up Lay your whole chips down, nigga Let's bubble up Niggas fucking with the D.o.g Be coming at me like the police with an A.P.B But you don't recognize lately I know you hate me You niggas really underrate me But dog is greatly I move them keys like I'm Macy Or Count Basie Niggas is thinking the Dog is sleeping cause the eyes are lazy Niggas you crazy I bother you and your moms, the neighbors and the babies I come to get it on with the Army and the Navy I spit facts Watch emcees buckle and get back I sit back Your head get big, I push your wig back Brain splat all over your chain and your six pack Your bitch wack Nutted on her ass and the shit crack The pimps back Rolling with diamonds and a six, black The trunk's fat Filled with autos something sick, black The Dog's back Ready for you homos and you fags Fuck your promos and mags Put them doughnuts in the bag But you don't understand the lingo You fucking gringo It's the money in the bundle Rubber band wrapped around the bitch Nigga make it rain Real G's make it drowning So come on Who want more? Fucking doubt it Niggas know I'm no limit Cause the Dog's fucking bout it We can talk arsenal Whatever nigga, I got it Yo, no matter whatcha'll new rapper say Ya'll can't fuck with the golden era Let's go [Verse Two] Niggas claim they're hardcore But they ain't came more raw [?] Roll up the window panel You switched the handle Nigga playing me a truck with the ammo You can be a shark in the game I'm a mammal Or you can get high on life And get smoked off the camel Cause you and me are not equal I'm God, your not Han Solo Your R2-D2 Lying to your fans but to me your see through Shit list baby Here's a mother fucking preview I'm the unsigned hype My game is so precise on the mic and life Get dissed tonight Ima show you why the pimp was right You married your baby mom after five kids I fucked the first night I hit it when the bitch was tight You can't run from me nigga lace your Nikes You can't eat my food when I ate your Life Nigga you can't beat a gun with a knife Or pipe But maybe if your nice, all right You couldn't bring your fucking man, two body guards and DJ With one hand laying down niggas easy Yea, I heard about the shit you saying And i heard about the fact that you print the game But I don't like the way ya'll niggas try to come in my lane Try to change the game Try to re-arrange Try to make it hard for me So I'm bringing the pain I want ya'll niggas way back Niggas call me the problem child cause I don't know how to act Then smack a nigga fast I come see you at the Grammys or your office, whatever I'm in ya'll niggas ass On gun, two gun, three gun, four Five gun, six gun, seven guns, more Bring your whole team to my fucking front door Murder all ya'll niggas with C-4 Niggas think I'm sore cause I run with Kool Keith and Ultra South Bronx nigga where murder is culture Webster Ave nigga where beef is Kosher Bring it on nigga I toast ya BX stand up I'm bringing home the crown I owe it all to you cause you held me down Ain't no other Bronx rappers are making a sound But I'm a tear there shit down Niggas won't let me eat Who won't let me air this shit now? BX stand up! We invented Hip Hop!