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How We Get Down

Purple, yeah, it's Dogghouse why y'all

[Bad Azz: x2]

See me, I be about my dollars

In my own world, wit my own girls popping collars

I'ma G, we, be up for the Impalas

Wit the juice, getting loose on why y'all, I make ya holla

[Bad Azz]

I make ya feel like ya drunk, you on a gallon of strong gin

What's happening, it's a party cracking up in my play pen

The play pen party is popping, it's strait line up

It's an after Aftermath party and my bed's smelly bottom

Oh you gone, I see real weird 'til it's over

When we leave, we goin' peel out in the limo wit the chauffeur

Wit the doja, gat, Congnac and some soda, (c'mon, see man)

[Kola]

Who make 'em chat? Angels rule the world

Who make these niggas want to leave their girl? (Kola, Kola!)

Who got the turk to the dirt? Throwing nose and dope

Got niggas cumming from the lyrics I quar (Kola, Kola!)

Dogghouse checking niggas with the switch in their walk

Niggas would talk, slept wit my, leave 'em in chalk

Keep it pimping (truly!) Got 'em screaming (ooh wee!)

Angels 'with B-A-D A-Z-Z!

[Chorus: LaToya Williams]

(oh, oh, oh, oh) How we get down

(oh oh, oh, oh) This is how we get down

(oh, oh, oh, oh) How we get down

(oh oh, oh, oh) This is how we get down

[Bad Azz]

Money talks, nigga bullshit, run a marathon

Gotta have bread, every month, every cent, every blunt

Every single bottle of 'gnac, you could shine

It ain't no thing, show your paper stack (check it out)

Money makes girls, take bitches, make niggas

Take money by the motherfucking gun

See I'ma gangsta from the East side, the L.B.C.

I wouldn't do it if it wasn't no fun (c'mon)

Oh you gone? I see it real weird 'til it's over

Where you at? We still smoking and this is Conyiac

[Conyiac]

It's only one way, Dogghouse is doing movies

Fun stack to unlimited, riches with intentions

Regulate every aspect of the game

(Brain loose, sipping purple smoke)

That got me and Angels choked out (no doubt)

They formally stampeded like Kurk (have some party's)

Step up wit quiet and I could get us

Rep the 'boes, sticking clicks, sick dumbs never holla

I be out, thugged out, then follow, make 'em swallow

[Chorus: x2]

[Bad Azz]

Three, two, one, it's at the NFL like the thing just begun

I'm fucked up, I can't believe I'm still looking at butts

I can't quit, I'm off the hizzle with this kinda shit

It's goin' be all away, done before we trying to split

When it's this kinda party, we always act dope

Now you all doped up and you think ya mad dope

Gotcha homegirls talking to you, glasses of, damn

I done, drank all my 'gnac and Cola, whats up Chan?

[Big Chan]

Know I, not tap, no hats, nothing but hand claps

Slap the pistol cause my holsters snap, and dudes get snapped

Time to act up, and I could definitely dig that

We got's to get paid to snitches masses, my decision is made

Why y'all bought, why y'all paid

We be fiends, everywhere, the Angels are back

Hold that, so let it go and put the bang-bang

That's how we doing the damn thing (damn thing)

[Chorus: x4]

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written by Broadus, Calvin / Gilliam, Kevin / Stamps, Jamarr Antonio / Williams, Latoya / Marion, Kola / Gaines, Chan / Proby, Kim

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

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