Snoop Bounce Lyrics by Snoop Dogg

Snoop Bounce Lyrics

    Intro/Chorus: Charlie Wilson

    Ain't no funk, it's funky, it's Doggystyle (Ain't it funky nuff?)
    (Death Row-ow, Death Rowwwww)
    (*Everybody knows I got more bounce than an ounce*)
    *repeat*

    Verse 1: Snoop Doggy Dogg

    Shucks, stompin in my big blue chucks
    More bounce to the ounce while I'm ditchin you clutz
    Bump-bump-bump-bump while you're bumpin your sounds
    It's the zoo and the Pound we don't fuck around
    Relax your mind and let your conscience be free
    and get down, stompin grounds is the LBC
    I slid up out the game and MC's get wacked
    but now I'm back (Oh shit!), so go get your strap
    Watch your head, I break wit
    wit G's, Muslims, hardheads and dreds
    Bounce, rock while rollerskatin
    on them 20 inch tyres wit the platinum Daytons
    I'm not that BG poppin all that junk
    about "I'll fuck you up", he sound like a punk
    I been there and done that, no inspiration
    All day illustration beat conversation

    Chorus

    Verse 2: Snoop Dogg

    I keep niggas in the studio, word is bond
    Been workin on ya new album for two years strong
    and still can't come up with the right song
    You know what they say:'Study long, study long'
    All aboard the train so come along
    cos we keep the glue stuff against the bone
    It's alright ain't no room for wrong
    Doggyland is the motherland, make yourself at home
    I got money loads by the barrels
    I even got a few fans that's crazy like DeNiro
    I'm international money maker, player hater
    shhok up off the sake of spendin dollars and I always holler
    at a player though cos players know the real from the fake
    You can put that on your toast, your coast and your state
    I give you people what you like
    What I look like in jail and can't get on the mic

    Chorus x1 1/2

    Verse 3: Snoop Dogg

    Killin up crews, give em the real street blues
    Have em slidin in their eelskins, groovin in their tennis shoes
    Of course it don't stop bein a Westside ridah
    Wit no tattoo that's how they got the clue
    I lay conversation on wax and CD's
    BG's and o-riginals, here come the mission
    Makin biters ride the Pound for the rest of the season
    Doggy DPG ya lil homey, uhh
    I represent the LBC-ment
    Windows tint, nigga that's the president
    I hit you with a tune every blue moon
    Collard on your plate so you can stuff it in your face
    Nigga say your Grace before you touch your plate
    It taste like it's laced but it ain't
    This one puff uncut, no doubt
    Everybody know I gotta ounce and a half

    Chorus x1 1/2

    Outro:

    Shucks
    (Oooh ooh ooohhh oooohhhh ooh, oooh oooh oooohhhh ooh)
    (Death Rowwww, Death Rowwww)
    *repeat*

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