Dogg Market (Everyday) (E-Moe Remix) Brotha Lynch Hung (Ft. Snoop Dogg)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Dogg Market (Everyday) (E-Moe Remix)" by Brotha Lynch Hung (Ft. Snoop Dogg). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Snoop]
I'm in a murderous-mental mind state
Monopolizin’ on 'em, enterprise with homicide
Rock this dope and cut them corners worldwide
Visualize two young killas on the rise
Ain't that a bitch? Snoop Dogg and Brotha Lynch
[Lynch]
And we remain bombed out (what), no doubt
Eat niggas up with sauerkraut (what up), haul 'em out
'Bout to open my own business, Siccmade Meats
Where you gonna get your product from, nigga?
Sacramento streets (WHY), gotta be
‘Cause these niggas be trippin’
I'm dippin in and out the city with the Frank Nitti (With with what?)
With no pity, dingy, dirty, grimey and gritty, get me
[Snoop]
I had a bundle of bitches before I had a bundle a dollars
A fist full a problems while I'm poppin’ my collar (ay, ay, ay)
Sockin’ bustas, frontin’ hustlers with they work on the streets
From the streets, to the suites (To the what?)
To the slugs, to the heats (Bang)
Please believe, let me holler at you, nephew
What you do and what I do, I'll make you ball, act a fool
I'm in a murderous-mental mind state
Monopolizin’ on 'em, enterprise with homicide
Rock this dope and cut them corners worldwide
Visualize two young killas on the rise
Ain't that a bitch? Snoop Dogg and Brotha Lynch
[Lynch]
And we remain bombed out (what), no doubt
Eat niggas up with sauerkraut (what up), haul 'em out
'Bout to open my own business, Siccmade Meats
Where you gonna get your product from, nigga?
Sacramento streets (WHY), gotta be
‘Cause these niggas be trippin’
I'm dippin in and out the city with the Frank Nitti (With with what?)
With no pity, dingy, dirty, grimey and gritty, get me
[Snoop]
I had a bundle of bitches before I had a bundle a dollars
A fist full a problems while I'm poppin’ my collar (ay, ay, ay)
Sockin’ bustas, frontin’ hustlers with they work on the streets
From the streets, to the suites (To the what?)
To the slugs, to the heats (Bang)
Please believe, let me holler at you, nephew
What you do and what I do, I'll make you ball, act a fool
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