My Fuckin' House Songtext

And I can leave a set of white fingerprints
Chris Tucker Larenz Tate Dead Presidents
Dead white boys spread across the coffee table
I don't know maybe I'll start me up a record label
Fuck it get high and call what's her name
She like to play this little game called fuck a brain
Lord when you talk them numbers sound sophisticated
It ain't nothing even the pitbull's affiliated
Yeah and trust [?] getting bust on
G shit even the coupes got Chucks on

[Snoop Dogg:]
Yeah
This is my mother fuckin house nigga
This is where I do it at
You gotta problem with that
Yeah big dog nigga
If you ain't a big dog stay on the porch nigga
Dog house or nothing
Dog house everything nigga
I gotta whole house trap house and a flat
I'm on parole bitch so I need my pistol back
These rap niggas is too soft
I built this from the ground up pound up until I knock your roof off
New boss Snoop off and on and
Heed him in the morning catch him while he yawning
My bitch is on the phone and my homies bout to zone in
Cracky smacky dippy whippy habitual potential
Strip for your credentials
Mental unessential shits official like a referee with a whistle
Nah my nigga shit's official jihad muslim with a missile
Catch me in the air we close to the nickel block
Nigga went platinum but I still serve that nickel rock
Hard times bad times fuck doing jail time
Cook it up rock it up bag it up and sell mines

[E-40:]
This my mother fuckin house
Take your mother fuckin shoes off when you step in my house partner
Matter of fact take your hat off too
Nigga this the round table nigga
If you can't stand the heat get your punk ass up out the kitchen
I'm in the mother fuckin [?]

This is my house in the middle of the trap
Open this door I'm sweating like I ran a fucking lap
Customers on hold stressing they keep coming back
3 6 5 2 4 7 I got Jumbo Jacks
Would you like your cheese with that
Yeah I like my cheese with that
Crack in the box round the clock
Up all night pitching rocks
Serving that doop stuck in my loop
Pitching that tragic all in the traffic
Me and my group me and my cabinet
[?] and bag it
I got the key to this spot break in you gonna get popped
Fuck around and get molly whopped in here bet'r not attract no cops
Got a [?] up in here who want what I got in stock
Not from Atlanta but I got heart
Chickens birdies quails baking soda scales
Heavy weights exhale 5 star hotels
I'm a grinder about my grit
Trying to increase my profit quick
50 thou under the couch
This is my mother fucking house

This is my mother fucking this is my mother fucking
This is my mother fucking this is my fucking house
This is my mother fucking this is my mother fucking
This is my mother fucking this is my fucking house
This is my mother fucking this is my mother fucking
This is my mother fucking this is my fucking house
This is my mother fucking this is my mother fucking
This is my mother fucking this is my fucking house
[Repeat out]