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letra de gospel - dr. dre

yeah (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
what? (uh) what? (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
dre, you ready? (woo, woo, woo, woo)
c’mon (yo, we gotta do whatever)
alright (check, check, check, check, check)
get ’em!

cut ’em undercover, timeless
ready for ’em, progress
feelin’ like i’m just gettin’ started
two shots back for my dearly departed
uh, you are now dеalin’ with a monster
boss sh-t, profits
doc dre, b-tch, i’m a prophet
black wall street, n-ggas know whеre the stock is
heh, try me
n-ggas never see me, but it ain’t hard to find me
heh, unwinding
sh-t’s blinding, still grinding
uprising, agh
stop talking ’bout the past, i’m the future, n-gga
agh
n-gga like me still here, motherf-cker, go figure
lookin’ for my next gold digger
this summer here gon’ be colder than winter
already told you, i fold you like hundreds of billions
and you can go missing, put that on my children
bet that, n-gga, what?
regret that, run it up
heh, and i’m about to sum it up
this sh-t here that problem
livin’ at the bottom of a bottle
“full throttle” my motto, eh
f-ckin’ with me like f-ckin’ with the lotto
that awful in your nostril
in a brothel, this is gospel
yeah, i’ma need all that, pr-nto

yes, i, yes, i, yes, i ride till i die
give a f-ck if you b-tches die
put a motherf-cking hole in your face
back up, b-tch, don’t even try
i am that motherf-cker, been the coldest
why you on that? no one know us
overdosed on what dope is (yeah)
hip-hop sh-t sell better than the coke did

like a satanic cult, it’s
an old ritual slaughtering goats, b-tch (goats, b-tch, yeah)
you’re f-cking with the original, flow’s sick
and anybody can get it—covid (f-ck with that?)
i done wrote sh-t
that was so sharp, i could slit my own f-cking throat with it
so rich, i got more chips than my shoulders
and i’m about as approachable as a roach is (roach is)
yeah, so better steer clear from him
here comes a nuclear bomb for your eardrums
lyricism at its most fearsome and fierce
we’re on another tier like a tear duct’s upper echelon (yeah)
your career sucked (meaning what?), it was sheer luck (like what?)
like a f-ckin’ leprechaun with its beard cut
(still a) punisher, weapon drawn with a beer gut (haha)
you’re slower than a decepticon with its gear stuck
(and i what?) i serial k!ll, and you’re kellogg’s (what?)
i love checks and i hate tricks
and you’re a fake b-tch (b-tch)
i could spot you like you ’bout to weight lift (yeah)
b-tch, i’m badder than cake mix
(but i) can’t be whipped with egg beaters (nah)
you c-nts must be out of your l-b–s
and god is my alias, so if i don’t have faith in me
then it basically makes me an atheist (woo!)
nate diaz got the world by the tracheas
in a chokehold and a sleeper
yeah, and me and dre are like dog hair (woof)
we’re both in our lab coats like retrievers (grrr)
but like a doberman, i’m a whole different breed of (what?)
animal mutt mixed with a overachiever (yeah)
oh, you’re the king of rap? you’re ’bout to be overthrown
like a pass over the head of an open receiver
this sh-t could end up comin’ to blows like a wiener (haha)
but i ain’t finished puttin’ these hoes through the wringer (nah)
like clothes in between the two rollers, and– wait, no
what i mean is flows interwoven, i treat ’em like thread (why?)
that’s how i wound up sewin’ machine up
so, f-cks, if you don’t give up me, then
time to ride or die, ’cause you’re either both or you’re neither (yeah, yeah)
throw a middle finger up if you’re rollin’, but, me, i’m gonna (yeah, yeah)

ride till i die
give a f-ck if you b-tches die
put a motherf-cking hole in your face
back up, b-tch, don’t even try
i am that motherf-cker, been the coldest
why you on that? no one know us
overdosed on what dope is
hip-hop sh-t sell better than the coke did

- dr dre

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