The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
Yeah, hell yeah, know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah
Mista Busta, where the fuck you at?
Can't scrap a lick, so I know you got your gat
Your dick on hard, from fuckin' your road dogs
The hood you threw up with, niggas you grew up with
Don't even respect yo' ass
That's why it's time for the doctor to check your ass, nigga
Used to be my homie, used to be my ace
Now I wanna slap the taste out yo' mouth
Make you bow down to the Row
Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little ho
Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide
Let me ride, just another homicide
Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on
Stompin' on the easiest streets that you can walk on
So strap on your Compton hat, your locs
And watch your back 'cause you might get smoked, loc
And pass the bud and stay low-key
B-G 'cause you lost all your homies' love
Now call it what you want to
You fucked wit' me, now it's a must that I fuck wit' you
(You better raise up)
Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about (you better raise up)
We have your motherfuckin' record company surrounded
Put down the candy and let the little boy go (you better, you-you, you better)
You know what I'm sayin'? Punk motherfucker (you better raise up)
(Better raise up) (Dogg)
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Death Row's in the motherfuckin' house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
The sounds of a Dogg brings me to another day
Play, with my bone would you Timmy?
It seems like you're good for makin' jokes about your jimmy
Well here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like
I heard she was a 'Frisco dyke
But fuck your mama, I'm talkin' about you and me
Toe to toe, Tim M-U-T
Your bark was loud but your bite wasn't vicious
And them rhymes you were kickin' were quite bootylicious
You get with Doggy Dogg, oh is he crazy?
With your mama and your daddy hollerin', "Baby"
So what that let you know?
That if you fuck with Dre, nigga you're fuckin' wit Death Row
And I ain't even swangin' them thangs
I'm hollerin', "187" with my dick in yo' mouth, biatch (biatch)
Yeah nigga, Compton and Long Beach together on this motherfucker
So you wanna pop that shit and get yo' motherfuckin' cranium cracked, nigga?
Step on up, now, we ain't no motherfuckin joke so remember the name
Mighty, mighty D-R, yeah, motherfucker (shit done hit the fan) (Dogg)
Now understand this, my nigga Dre can't be touched
Luke's bendin' over, so Luke's gettin' fucked, busta
Musta thought I was sleazy
Or though I was a mark 'cause I used to hang with Eazy
Animosity, made you speak what you spoke (yeah)
Ayo Dre (what up?) Chip this nigga off loc
If it ain't another ho that I gots to fuck with
Gap teeth in ya mouth so my dick's gots to fit
With my nuts on ya tonsils
While you're onstage rappin' at your wack-ass concert
And I'ma snatch yo' ass from the backside
To show you how Death Row pull off that hoo-ride
Now you might not understand me
'Cause I'ma rob you in Compton and blast you in Miami
Then we gon' creep to South Central
On a Street Knowledge mission, as I steps in the temple
Spot him, got him, as I pulls out my strap
Got my chrome to the side of his White Sox hat
You tryin' to check my homie, you best check yo' self
'Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, motherfucker
Yeah, nigga
So I don't want no dilapidated, two-faced, pigeon-toed
Bow-legged, cross-eyed son of a gun fuckin' with me (fuckin' with me)
(Oh-ooh)
(Oh, yeah, yeah) Yeah, nine-deuce, Dr. Dre
(Oh) Droppin' chronic once again
(Yeah-yeah, yeah) It don't stop
(Oh) punishing punk motherfuckers real quick like
(Yeah, yeah) Compton style, nigga
Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house, yeah (I don't, no, no-no-no-no, ayy)
Long Beach is in the motherfuckin' house (Long Beach)
Yeah, yeah (Compton)
Straight up, really doe (Death Row is in the house, yeah)
(Oh-Oh, yeah) Breakin' all them suckas off somethin' real proper-like
You know what I'm sayin'? (Yeah)
(Oh, whoa, whoa) All the sucka-ass niggas can eat a fat dick
(Yeah, yeah) Yeah, Eazy-E, Eazy-E
(Oh, yeah-yeah) Eazy-E can eat a big fat dick
Tim Dog can eat a big fat dick
(Oh-Oh) Luke, can eat a fat dick
Yeah (yeah)
(Oh yeah)
(Oh-oh, yeah, yeah) (Dogg)
(Oh-oh, yeah, yeah-yeah)
(Oh, yeah, yeah)
Yeah
Mista Busta, where the fuck you at?
Can't scrap a lick, so I know you got your gat
Your dick on hard, from fuckin' your road dogs
The hood you threw up with, niggas you grew up with
Don't even respect yo' ass
That's why it's time for the doctor to check your ass, nigga
Used to be my homie, used to be my ace
Now I wanna slap the taste out yo' mouth
Make you bow down to the Row
Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little ho
Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide
Let me ride, just another homicide
Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on
Stompin' on the easiest streets that you can walk on
So strap on your Compton hat, your locs
And watch your back 'cause you might get smoked, loc
And pass the bud and stay low-key
B-G 'cause you lost all your homies' love
Now call it what you want to
You fucked wit' me, now it's a must that I fuck wit' you
(You better raise up)
Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about (you better raise up)
We have your motherfuckin' record company surrounded
Put down the candy and let the little boy go (you better, you-you, you better)
You know what I'm sayin'? Punk motherfucker (you better raise up)
(Better raise up) (Dogg)
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Death Row's in the motherfuckin' house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
The sounds of a Dogg brings me to another day
Play, with my bone would you Timmy?
It seems like you're good for makin' jokes about your jimmy
Well here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like
I heard she was a 'Frisco dyke
But fuck your mama, I'm talkin' about you and me
Toe to toe, Tim M-U-T
Your bark was loud but your bite wasn't vicious
And them rhymes you were kickin' were quite bootylicious
You get with Doggy Dogg, oh is he crazy?
With your mama and your daddy hollerin', "Baby"
So what that let you know?
That if you fuck with Dre, nigga you're fuckin' wit Death Row
And I ain't even swangin' them thangs
I'm hollerin', "187" with my dick in yo' mouth, biatch (biatch)
Yeah nigga, Compton and Long Beach together on this motherfucker
So you wanna pop that shit and get yo' motherfuckin' cranium cracked, nigga?
Step on up, now, we ain't no motherfuckin joke so remember the name
Mighty, mighty D-R, yeah, motherfucker (shit done hit the fan) (Dogg)
Now understand this, my nigga Dre can't be touched
Luke's bendin' over, so Luke's gettin' fucked, busta
Musta thought I was sleazy
Or though I was a mark 'cause I used to hang with Eazy
Animosity, made you speak what you spoke (yeah)
Ayo Dre (what up?) Chip this nigga off loc
If it ain't another ho that I gots to fuck with
Gap teeth in ya mouth so my dick's gots to fit
With my nuts on ya tonsils
While you're onstage rappin' at your wack-ass concert
And I'ma snatch yo' ass from the backside
To show you how Death Row pull off that hoo-ride
Now you might not understand me
'Cause I'ma rob you in Compton and blast you in Miami
Then we gon' creep to South Central
On a Street Knowledge mission, as I steps in the temple
Spot him, got him, as I pulls out my strap
Got my chrome to the side of his White Sox hat
You tryin' to check my homie, you best check yo' self
'Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, motherfucker
Yeah, nigga
So I don't want no dilapidated, two-faced, pigeon-toed
Bow-legged, cross-eyed son of a gun fuckin' with me (fuckin' with me)
(Oh-ooh)
(Oh, yeah, yeah) Yeah, nine-deuce, Dr. Dre
(Oh) Droppin' chronic once again
(Yeah-yeah, yeah) It don't stop
(Oh) punishing punk motherfuckers real quick like
(Yeah, yeah) Compton style, nigga
Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house, yeah (I don't, no, no-no-no-no, ayy)
Long Beach is in the motherfuckin' house (Long Beach)
Yeah, yeah (Compton)
Straight up, really doe (Death Row is in the house, yeah)
(Oh-Oh, yeah) Breakin' all them suckas off somethin' real proper-like
You know what I'm sayin'? (Yeah)
(Oh, whoa, whoa) All the sucka-ass niggas can eat a fat dick
(Yeah, yeah) Yeah, Eazy-E, Eazy-E
(Oh, yeah-yeah) Eazy-E can eat a big fat dick
Tim Dog can eat a big fat dick
(Oh-Oh) Luke, can eat a fat dick
Yeah (yeah)
(Oh yeah)
(Oh-oh, yeah, yeah) (Dogg)
(Oh-oh, yeah, yeah-yeah)
(Oh, yeah, yeah)
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I love snoop doggs verse.
awesome song all around though