Music Service


by Dr. Dre feat Eminem
Lyrics by: Dr. Dre, Eminem
# Debut Chart
14 Dec '99 R&B
25 Jan '00 Hot 100


Yall know me still the same ol G But I been low key Hated on by most these niggas Wit no cheese, no deals and no Gs, no wheels and no keys No boats, no snowmobiles and no skis Mad at me cause I can finally afford to provide my family wit groceries Got a crib wit a studio and its all full of tracks To add to the wall full of plaques Hangin up in the office in back of my house like trophies But yall think Im gonna let my dough freeze Hoe Please You better bow down on both knees Who you think taught you to smoke trees Who you think brought you the oldies Eazy-Es Ice Cubes and D.O.Cs and Snoop D O double Gs And a group that said muthafuck the police Gave you a tape full of dope beats The bomb weed stroll through in you hood And when your album sales wasnt doin too good Whos the doc that he told you to go see Yall better listen up closely All you niggas that said that I turned pop Or the the Firm flop yall are the reason Dre aint been getting no sleep So fuck yall all of yall If yall dont like me blow me Yall are gonna keep fuckin around wit me And turn me back to the old me

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chorus x2 nem Nowadays everybody wanna talk like they got something to say But nothin comes out when they move they lips Just a buncha gibberish And muthafuckas act like they forgot about Dre y wit a Walkman on when I caught a guy givin me an awkward eye And strangled him off in the parkin lot wit his Karl Kani I dont give a fuck if its dark or not Im harder than me tryin to park a Dodge when Im drunk as fuck Right next to a humungous truck in a two car garage Hoppin out wit two broken legs tryna walk it off Fuck you too bitch call the cops Ima kill you and them loud ass muthafuckin barkin dogs And when the cops came through Me and Dre stood next to a burnt down house wit a can full of gas and a hand full of matches And still werent found out chorus x2 If it was up to me You muthafuckas would stop comin up to me Wit your hands out lookin up to me Like you want somethin free When my last cd was out you wasnt bumpin me But now that I got this little company Everybody wanna come to me like it was some disease But you wont get a crumb from me Cause Im from the streets of Compton, Compton I told em all All them little gangstas Who you think helped mold em all Now you wanna run around and talk about guns Like I aint got none What you think I sold em all Cause I stay well off Now all I get is hate mail all day sayin Dre fell off What cause I been in the lab wit a pen and a pad Tryna get this damn label off I aint havin that This is the millenium of Aftermath It aint gonna be nothin after that So give me one more platinum plaque and fuck rap You can have it back So wheres all the mad rappers at Its like a jungle in this habitat But all you savage cats Know that I was strapped wit gats When you were cuddlin a cabbage patch Chorus x3


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