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| Master P Ghetto Postage Poppin' Them Collars f/ Snoop Dogg Thanks to compbuttons@hotmail.com for these lyrics. [Snoop Dogg & (Master P) talking] Hey yo (Ghetto Postage) Give me something that makes a nigga wanna pop his motherfuckin' collar (With a lil' West Coast twist on it) (Master P and Snoop, ha ha, tah dow, poppin' collars] [Chorus with Master P & Snoop ad-libs] Pop those collars Pop those collars Pop those collars That's the just the way we do it Pop those collars We changed the game [Snoop] Slid up in the door, get up in ya ho Sippin' on some Mo with Big D from the mad ass 6-0 Stretched out on the couch with some Mary Jane Doghouse nigga, we all in the same game An every nigga in my click got the platinum chain Blang, blang Doggy's Angel's same thang Eastsidaz same thang, rip riders ask my nephew Kokane [Master P & Snoop together] Cause game recognize game and we got it No Limit and Dogg Pound, we rowdy, get em' up We bang bang [Snoop] On this music that we make ho In the cars, the clubs, or when we smoke dope We drop that shit for you kin folk And poor folks no joke, loc loc Blaze a sack loc, bust a back stroke And pop ya motherfuckin' collar till ya break ya back loc [Chorus with Master P & Snoop ad-libs] [Master P] Ah dog we off the heezy Snoop and P together for cheesy Poppin' collars from the South to the Wizest We off, see the tank around our nizeck We O.G. show me love And the Baker Boys started the buzz Now we California livin' like Dre and Pac And them No Limit boys, see we can't be stopped Me and E-Feezy go way on the bizack Remember Baby D, TRU it and Prizack My essay homie, chop chop got the dizope While me and Xzibit was ballin' by cizoast I'm the black Slim Shady so don't try to play me Turn a six into a Bentley and drive em' crazy Roll up to Eastside back to the West Represent Richmond, California to the South, respect [Chorus with Master P & Snoop ad-libs] [Snoop] I'll bless you before I diss you Y'all miss me, shit I miss you So sweet, so sure but so low So just let it all go, serious we sick of this Dog homie, ask ya kids they put chu' up on it On the corners they poppin' they collars While back in the days, shit niggas used to stack they dollars Make a nigga wanna holler Playas, pimp, p-poppers, impersonators Real rip riders, Eastsidaz and regulators Haters come in all shapes, sizes and colors But we on top of thangs so they can't get above us Hate us or love us, we rollin' with the heat huggers Thuggers, house party niggas fuck clubbers With anine in my pockets, poppin' my collar pushin' and shovin' [Hook with Master P & Snoop ad-libs to fade] |
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