"D.O.G.S." as written by Melissa A. Elliott, Erick S. Sermon, George Jr. Clinton, Garry Marshall Shider, David L. Spradley and Reggie Noble....
Ha ha ha
Chillin'
Tokin' on my indo...
Smokin' on a indo...
Lookin' through your window... (chi chi blaow!)
Doin' what, I win doe, ha ha ha... it goes
Who that tokin' on my indo? Pow!

Fragile niggaz get mashed out
(Who dat?) The Funk D O see Spock hash mouth rhymer
The Prime Timer sharper than barber shop liners
Look at my chin ninety degree bent
When I spit I make devils come out East St. Loren (gin!)
I spend so much money on chalk and the indo
My weed supplier need to build a drive through window

My form of art rock, jewels with Clarks
When my bass sparks for fiends it disturbs the NARCs
Freak pattern after pattern to leave Angeles Los
The roughest rapper a DJ needle came across
Knock it in your Hummer, if it's too hot dial 9-1-1
Hook off on you like "I Know What You Did Last Summer"
Your dog, is my dog, we dogs when it's thug time
When the fuckin' hoes keep that drow in your bloodline

Yo, I send this to all my Dogs!
To my real niggaz that are true...Dog!
Niggaz who will bust guns for they...Dog!
Niggaz who will spit ones for they...Dog!
Niggaz who be rollin deep with they...Dog!
Niggaz who blaze blunts with they...Dog!
Niggaz who would do time for they...Dog!
Niggaz who would diss a bitch for they...Dog!

Yo I'm a dog
I piss on the wall in airport bathroom stalls
Grab the intercom and yell, "Fuck you!" in the mall
I drop it with the holocaust force, I got balls
I get my pants fitted twelve inches bigger than y'alls

I went to college, rockin' tie one below outfits
Dropped out, but stuck my friends for college deposits
Nigga, get a country nigga gun bustin'
Like they saw Tupac with two glocks still thuggin'
Fuckin' with a dog like me, I call your name out
While you pussy niggaz call id, when I blaze
You step life your wifee got a baby on the way
The way I flex son you think I'm made out of clay
I'm illin', my lyrics on the blocks make the killings
I string your moms out until diapers take to chillin'
I don't like to toot my own horn but I'm the shit
And if you hearin' me I see you paid that twelve cent

So peace to homey $hort Dog!
Peace to that funky nigga Snoop Dog!
Peace to that old nigga Dirt Dog!
Pour some beer out on the curb for your dead Dog!

You can call a female, a dog too (true)
You can feed they stinkin' ass Eucanubu...Dog!
They fuck your enemies and bring the beef to you
You got me, I left a couple in your Fubu
A real raw dog never get jealous
They keep they shit cocked if niggaz try to dead em
So ask 'Face, keep your mind on your money
I keep the stinkin' ass hoes doin' laundry...Dog!

Cause I'm a...
Dog! [Repeat to fade]


Lyrics submitted by ButNeverOutgunned

"D.O.G.S." as written by Erick Sermon Reggie Noble

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, DELLA MUSIC PUBLISHING, LLC

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D.O.G.S. song meanings
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