Dr Dre - As The World Keeps Turning Lyrics
Artist: dr. dre f/ whereIntro/chorus:As the world keeps turning, chronic keeps burning(this aint no) street sermon, these niggas are determined*repeat*Verse 1:whereI flow like cds in the deckMoosh fools in the face that lack respectProtect ya arm, pitch from the funkI deodirise the musty, ya rhymes are crusty, you cant bust gSo leave me alone Im in the zoneWalkin the streets on my own, nigga get blownSome niggas say that nigga where is goneBut Im low in the cut and gotta microphoneAre you gone bust or play bones?You mother*****in clone, get off that niggas style and getcha ownIts miscellane and its on againFor the niggas that slept, they shoulda stayed in stepAnd kept ya big *****in mouth shutChorusVerse 2:whereI woke up with a stomach ache, headache, back acheAdvil, tylenol, peptol, slept so long realised my world is wrongMy world is gone like discoBlowin up cisco and in my cammoStandin in back of me was my soulThinking of the easiest way to get a bank rollKnowledge is urban-able, exhaust manifoldA tar can of hos to lubricate my system quickShaky *****es off the dickCos she got a vice grip on the flow from my lipsIm slow but equipped with the proper toolsShow me the one talkin shit so I can drop a foolIm out to glow a nigga roll if he think he mr creamCome back on the scene and smoke a phillie, gI really dream of gettin mine now let me tell you whats sillyMe, buckin with my team is murder oneI heard a gun bustin shots (shots!), down the block (block!)I guess a nigga gettin what he got (got!)Shit is heavy like a medicine ball and broke niggas to smoke niggasIll ***** one for yall, they made ya last phone callTo a trick that didnt even careCos she was gettin *****ed somewhere, youre stuck in thereNow you wanna bust, nigga, now you wanna kill, nigga (nigga)Nigga how ya feel? (nigga)You cant try to be real (you cant try to be real)Shit is for realChorusVerse 3:whereIm cooler than most, but I got the shorter temperAnd Im cooler than foes that dont know how it goesLets take it back to the first sideWhen you was a new jack and jockin my new trackBut you was wrong, didnt know about the big longHead-strong, nicknamed dav from off the school yardWitta teenage group Im turnin loots to tracksMe and my niggas like (these tracks are laced with bomb weed and tightLyrics)You wanna know what the hos used to doWhen me and my crew came bustin throughAll sorts of blushins brew(a neighbourhood find, a gift too swift, miscellane is the crew)Underground till my brown eyed balls turned blueThis is for the *****es and niggas that wanna frontI smoke on, I broke on till I spoke onMiscellane packin shows like farrakhanWhere is on another level with two niggas thats on the same plateauNow thats three times your tightest flowAnd three times ya tightest track, three times your fattest sackThree times is clever (buck!)Chorus x 2Outro:Thou shalt rest in grief who lay buried in the beltBarely included work, leaves bodies scarred and hurtTo art in hell, where the next man dwellsThe place with stankin ***** and crack rock dwells
