Str-8 Gone lyrics

by

Dr. Dre


Haa
Woo

Dedicated to the Hub City
Straight West Coast n*gga, ain't no pity
Put holes in n*ggas, real pretty
Real sh*tty like a black Frank Nitty
I give drugs to the thugs price-free
Handed down the game by that n*gga Ice-T
No doubt players like me
Recognise the great King Tee, about twenty grand a ki
Ah, that's that G sh*t, no doubt about that
Statutory lyrics is how I rape the rap
And get your n*ggas off my back
And no, GOD, ya don't pull a strap, cos (*gun shot*) f*ck THAT!
I'm very precise when I shoot
Straight out the roof of my Lexus coupe
Ya wanna blame Tha Alkaholik group
But, naw, that n*gga Tela must've hit the loot
Cos he's actin real loonie
And I don't give a f*ck cause I'm drunk and I'm a G like Spoonie
The hoodrats wanna do me
So if you've got'cha county cheque give it to me

Chorus:
Now baby, don't trip, it's King Tee with the gangsta sh*t
Ain't f*ckin with nothin but them platinum hits
And the two dog groan, a 50 gat to your dome
That n*gga on the mic str-8 gone
*repeat*

Huh, so I guess I earned the title 'OG'
Been down for ten years, this my fifth Lp
I'mma give this one to Eazy-E
A real muthaphuckkin G, R.I.P
Now all these fools talkin 'bout they some killers
Car stealers, big time drug dealers
b*tch ass n*ggas keep it real, don't lie
You ain't killin sh*t and they gon' let sh*t die
You ask "Who the hell am I?"
They call me 'Big Bone' and on my worst night I fades em all
And I come thru ya hood like a locc ass G
Rip any fool that calls hisself an MC
It's only one way, let's have gun play
I make it play, n*gga, f*ck what you got to say
I got a mad crew of murderers, ex-burglars
Puttin soft n*ggas outta service

Chorus:

Now baby, don't trip, it's King Tee with the gangsta sh*t
Ain't f*ckin with nothin but them platinum hits
And the two dog groan, all the f*ckin chips blown
That n*gga on the mic str-8 gone
Baby, don't trip, it's King Tee with the gangsta sh*t
Ain't f*ckin with nothin but them platinum hits
And the two dog groan, sittin on chrome
That n*gga on the mic str-8 gone
My whole crew lives illegal
Strapped with the bulletproof vest in the front and back Regal
Smokin that sticky green grass
Hittin switches, bumpin on cuts from the past
We smoke leaf cos we live like G's
Super-soft n*ggas become enemies
I hit a lick on the East for ten ki's
Now everything I drive is on D's
I'mma make you believe, I gotta put it down like a real n*gga should
My dope spot in every n*gga's hood
I don't waste time, I need to get what's mine
Fourteen shells from behind
Leave you in the blind, str-8 paralysed from ya spine
A partner of organised crime
Ya hear it all the time but now ya gotta hear it from the truth
Til my n*gga Karl Phat's respect due

Chorus:

Now baby, don't trip, it's King Tee with the gangsta sh*t
Ain't f*ckin with nothin but them platinum hits
And the two dog groan, 50 gat to the dome
That n*gga on the mic str-8 gone
(repeat 4X)

And I'm gone
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