Video Gospel de Dr Dre 2024 Cristiana Lyrics

Dr Dre - Gospel Lyrics

Gospel Song Lyrics
Gospel by 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 dealin' with a monster, boss sh*t, profits
Doc Dre, b**ch, I'm a prophet
Black Wall Street, niggas know where the stock is
Heh, try me, niggas never see me, but it ain't hard to find me
Heh, unwinding, sh*t's blinding, still grinding, up rising
Agh, stop talking 'bout the past, I'm the future, nigga
Agh, nigga like me still here, motherf**ker, 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, nigga, 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, ehh
f**kin' with me like f**kin' with the lotto
That awful in your nostril, in a brothel, this is gospel
Yeah, I'ma need all that pronto

Yes I, yes I, yes I, ride 'til I die
Give a f**k if you b**ches die
Put a motherf**king hole in your face
Back up, b**ch, don't even try
I am that motherf**ker, 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**ch (GOATS, b**ch, yeah)
You're f**king with the original, flow's sick
And anybody can get it: COVID (f**k with that?)
I done wrote sh*t that was so sharp
I could slit my own f**king 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 sucks (Meaning what?), it was sheer luck (Like what?)
Like a f**kin' 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 kill, and you're Kellogg's
I love checks and I hate tricks
And you're a fake b**ch (b**ch)
I could spot you like you 'bout to weight lift (Yeah)
b**ch, I'm badder than cake mix
(But I) Can't be whipped with egg beaters (Nah)
You cunts must be out of your labias, 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 *snores*
Yeah, and me and Dre are like dog hair (Woof)
We're both in our lab coats like retrievers
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 '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 ringer (Nah)
Like clothes in between the two roll is a– wait, no
What I'm in is flow's interwoven, I treat 'em like thread (Why?)
That's how I wound up sewin' machine up
So, f**ks if you don't give up me the time to ride or die (Yeah)
'Cause you're either both or you're neither (Yeah)
Throw a middle finger up (Yeah) if you're rollin' (Yeah)
But, me, I'm gonna

Ride 'til I die
Give a f**k if you b**ches die
Put a motherf**king hole in your face
Back up b**ch, don't even try
I am that motherf**ker, 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