Tha Dogg Pound - Ridin', Slipin' and Slidin'

Aww, shit, fuck

It's a brand new day in the hood
It's money to make, and I'm doin' bad and it ain't lookin' good
It's all about the you-know-what everywhere that I roll
And I never leave empty-handed without packin' my chrome
If it's on, it's on, I put out my gangsta hand
Show and prove and began, put the jack down to chance
See I can put down like this, and you don't know why
Niggas always would try but soon they all just die
I didn't come up like Guy, won't put my biz in the street
All I can say is that the jack made my life complete
Fifty-four thousand, the cash he left with cheese and stips
But it still ain't enough, so what can I plot next?
An armored truck would be fine, as I come up from behind
Grab seven bags and fled, not wastin' no time
Coppers tailin' my ass, breathin' all down my back
Now my Benz on the corner as I abandon the 'Llac
Grab the satchel full of money, better Style crib
I throw the money on the table say, "We back in biz"
I copped the biggest dope sack, then got my hood soaked up
Now everybody 'bout to make the bomb, sold uncut

Riding (I'm riding high)
(Make money, money, make money, money, money)
Slipping and sliding
(Jack, jack for your money) (I'm riding high)
(Jack, jack for your money)

Ran out of dope, my situation's back where I left
A voice quietly tellin' me, "You got to come up on some bread"
Don't get it twisted for shit, see I be mashin' on my own mission
Never dreamin' or wishin' the money that I'm missin'
I heard some niggas doubtin', clockin', rakin' in all the dough
And since I'm doin' bad I gotta jack for they dough
Called my partners in crime, Kurupt, Nate Dogg, and Style
True soldiers from the Dogg Pound, puttin' it down
Kick the door in with the gauge and fo'-fo' (don't move)
Blast a couple of niggas as I style with all the dough
Five pounds of coke, two pounds of orange
Now we baggin' it up, and smokin' all night long
I wanted to trip, then I didn't have no chips
And my pockets was short, and I started to trip
To maintain wasn't a problem, stopped by my bitch house
She was poppin' with them sales, I don't play that shit (bitch)
And sold five hundred in cavi, barely happy today
Finna knock her out and my homie had to say (well)

Well, I got me a plot on the West Side of town
With some mark-ass niggas from the other side (yeah, let's put it down)
Now Dogg Pound Gangstaz, true indeed, we see (mhm)
The layout down, as we proceed
Two in the front, three in the back, I'm about to make niggas collapse
Cocked back the strap two minutes before the jack
Takes place, now we face to face and I'm in the mood
For a murder, so I'm all for the do-low and you know (what?)
The chances, advances stages (that's right)
Gauges and three-eighties, crazy, nigga shady (what?)
'Til I'm eighty, what I'ma do is mine for my loot
With the homies mash on a mission about quarter to two
When we arrive, I be the first nigga to dip
Straight to the front with all intentions to straight trip (nigga, Dogg Pound Gangstaz)
I gotta make my grip and I made my grip with the quickness
Niggas hit a lick and got paid, bitch

Riding (make money, money, make money, money, money)
Slipping and sliding
(Jack, jack for your money, jack, jack for your money) (I'm riding high)
I don't trust a bitch (take, take money, money)
So fuck a bitch (take money, money, money)
(Jack, jack for your money, jack, jack for your money) (Im riding high)
What's the function? (Makin' money)
What's the game? (Dogg Pound)
All aboard (Death Row)
The cavi train (I'm ridin' high)
All you busters (bus pass niggas)
Riding 'round (thinkin' you're hard and shit)
You don't wanna (straight up motherfuckers)
See Dogg Pound (I'm riding high) (Eastside 'til I die)

(South Central and the D-P-G)
(Riding high)
Kurupt Tha Kingpin and Dat Nigga Daz (I'm riding high)
Sentrelle and the D-P-G (I'm riding high)

Written by:
Delmer Drew Arnaud, Ricardo Brown, Sentrelle Connerly

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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