
Check Yo Self (Snoop Dogg G-Mix) Snoop Dogg (Ft. The Hustle Boyz)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Check Yo Self (Snoop Dogg G-Mix)" от Snoop Dogg (Ft. The Hustle Boyz). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Intro: Snoop Dogg + Hustle Boyz]
1500, let's take 'em back
Yeah, Bigg Snoop Dogg
Hustle Boyz
You better check yo self before the wreck yo self (Yeah)
West Coast
So come on and chickity-check yo self before you wreck yo self
Real talk lil homie, finna check yo self fool
[Verse 1: Snoop Dogg]
You better check yo self before you wreck yo self
Cause I'm bad for ya health, I come real stealth
Droppin' bombs on ya moms, kill car alarms
Do a foul crime, I'm the brother with the alpine
So down for our sets though, always let tricks know
And friends know, we got the indo
Yo, I'm not a sucka, sittin' in the house of pain
And no I'm not the butler, I'll cut ya
Headbutt ya, just so you can't touch this
And I wouldn't touch ya punk, youse a sucka
Here to let you know boy, oh boy
I make dope, but don't call me dopeboy
This ain't no kind of motion picture
I've got a trick-a, the homie get witcha
And hit ya, crankin' that yak to the neck
So ya better run a check
1500, let's take 'em back
Yeah, Bigg Snoop Dogg
Hustle Boyz
You better check yo self before the wreck yo self (Yeah)
West Coast
So come on and chickity-check yo self before you wreck yo self
Real talk lil homie, finna check yo self fool
[Verse 1: Snoop Dogg]
You better check yo self before you wreck yo self
Cause I'm bad for ya health, I come real stealth
Droppin' bombs on ya moms, kill car alarms
Do a foul crime, I'm the brother with the alpine
So down for our sets though, always let tricks know
And friends know, we got the indo
Yo, I'm not a sucka, sittin' in the house of pain
And no I'm not the butler, I'll cut ya
Headbutt ya, just so you can't touch this
And I wouldn't touch ya punk, youse a sucka
Here to let you know boy, oh boy
I make dope, but don't call me dopeboy
This ain't no kind of motion picture
I've got a trick-a, the homie get witcha
And hit ya, crankin' that yak to the neck
So ya better run a check
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