Fresh Lyrics by Kurupt

Fresh Lyrics

    Daz:
    Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, oooohh...

    Kurupt:
    G'd up, we're back, that's what i keep hearing
    We ain't never went nowhere fool (what?)
    Better ask your folks about the d-o-double g's

    How long could the war last on a warpath?
    We're still heat nigga, still signing autographs
    Still hitting the stash, and pulling pistols out to dash
    The poetical poltergeist, verbal jerry weiss
    Fuck the ice, give me a mic and let's see who's the nicest
    I fuck around and call it crisis
    With preciseness, and precisely this
    See we make the shit that precisely hits.
    So how soon could you pump up the volume
    Hand you your ends and pump up my album
    Get yours, i call the fucking holocaust
    I'm out to get mine, get yours, snatching anything yours
    Cocking back your name, blasting anything
    Yo, tha dogg pound gang, where all the g's hang
    It's impossible not for that ass to end up in a hospital
    G-r, gang related, and we are

    We are (fresh) (repeat)

    I spit poison, poisonous darts
    I aim, bomb and charge
    One rhyme will hold your pose and stop your heart
    Stop to talk, start to walk, and never walk again
    Legs broken, just played loc, zoning broke and crushed
    Touched, bust open, get hit like the four winds
    Up against four assassins, the four horsemen of rapping
    I gotta pinch my self to make sure i ain't dreaming
    'cause i just saw the homie bring an m-16 in (booya!)
    I fade in to see how baby sparks
    No ifs, ands or maybe's, baby barks
    Turn on the daylight, pitch black thoughts
    I pitch back sparks when the get back starts
    This is it, we're 'bout to show you how to do shit
    Dpg completely, running through shit

    We are (fresh) (repeat)

    Break it down

    Daz (kurupt):
    Party people clap your hands, keep rocking
    Sho' shocking and rocking, dj c-walking (kick that shit)
    Party people clap your hands now (sing that shit)
    Party people clap your hands (yeah)
    Party people clap your hands, keep rocking (huh)
    Sho' shocking and rocking, dj c-walking (bitch)
    Party people clap your hands now (sing that shit)
    Party people clap your hands (put your hands in the air, niggaz, come on,
    Come on, sing it)

    It's just a gangsta party

    Kurupt:
    Supa dupa, said you was seductive, psycho psychotic, psycho somatic
    Psycho's with automatics, the aftermath with the poetical psychopath
    And i might go slow, and i might go fast, and i might go burst
    Then i might go last, thinking i might not bust
    And i just might just blast
    Or i might just whoop the skin of your ass, if you cross or pass
    You know i'm the rawest mc with it
    Fuck jiggy nigga, i'm dp with it
    I've been the bombstrike, like the motherfucking pentagon
    Napalm verses disperses to all the mental gone
    Mack 10-ing dunn, separate and lick a mind
    Tear them in the zone in his leg, ain't bust his head
    Keep busting till he's dead
    D-a-z with the bombest in the country, taking lead on the street
    What you got, flame or some heat?
    Do you incinerate, or make it hot, he got (???)
    Powerful, strong or weak?
    All i know is i drop shit that cracks the concrete, and...

    (fresh) we are (repeat)

    Dogg pound, d-a-z, snoop dogg, kurupt, nate dogg

    Snoop dogg, dogg pound, d-a-z, kurupt, nate dogg
    Soopafly, tray deee, big c style
    The homies, anybody, we are o.g.'s, baby g's
    D-a-z, he made the beat, 'cause we are...
    Dogg pound, dp, death row, yeah, you know it, yeah
    You know it, 'cause we are icons

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