Dre Day
Dr. Dre Lyrics


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Yeah, hell yeah, know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah

Mista Busta, where the fuck you at?
Can't scrap a lick, so I know you got your gat
Your dick on hard, from fuckin' your road dogs
The hood you threw up with, niggas you grew up with
Don't even respect yo' ass
That's why it's time for the doctor to check your ass, nigga
Used to be my homie, used to be my ace
Now I wanna slap the taste out yo' mouth
Make you bow down to the Row
Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little ho
Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide
Let me ride, just another homicide
Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on
Stompin' on the easiest streets that you can walk on
So strap on your Compton hat, your locs
And watch your back 'cause you might get smoked, loc
And pass the bud and stay low-key
B-G 'cause you lost all your homies' love
Now call it what you want to
You fucked wit' me, now it's a must that I fuck wit' you

(You better raise up)
Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about (you better raise up)
We have your motherfuckin' record company surrounded
Put down the candy and let the little boy go (you better, you-you, you better)
You know what I'm sayin'? Punk motherfucker (you better raise up)
(Better raise up) (Dogg)

Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Death Row's in the motherfuckin' house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
The sounds of a Dogg brings me to another day
Play, with my bone would you Timmy?
It seems like you're good for makin' jokes about your jimmy
Well here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like
I heard she was a 'Frisco dyke
But fuck your mama, I'm talkin' about you and me
Toe to toe, Tim M-U-T
Your bark was loud but your bite wasn't vicious
And them rhymes you were kickin' were quite bootylicious
You get with Doggy Dogg, oh is he crazy?
With your mama and your daddy hollerin', "Baby"
So what that let you know?
That if you fuck with Dre, nigga you're fuckin' wit Death Row
And I ain't even swangin' them thangs
I'm hollerin', "187" with my dick in yo' mouth, biatch (biatch)

Yeah nigga, Compton and Long Beach together on this motherfucker
So you wanna pop that shit and get yo' motherfuckin' cranium cracked, nigga?
Step on up, now, we ain't no motherfuckin joke so remember the name
Mighty, mighty D-R, yeah, motherfucker (shit done hit the fan) (Dogg)

Now understand this, my nigga Dre can't be touched
Luke's bendin' over, so Luke's gettin' fucked, busta
Musta thought I was sleazy
Or though I was a mark 'cause I used to hang with Eazy
Animosity, made you speak what you spoke (yeah)
Ayo Dre (what up?) Chip this nigga off loc
If it ain't another ho that I gots to fuck with
Gap teeth in ya mouth so my dick's gots to fit
With my nuts on ya tonsils
While you're onstage rappin' at your wack-ass concert
And I'ma snatch yo' ass from the backside
To show you how Death Row pull off that hoo-ride
Now you might not understand me
'Cause I'ma rob you in Compton and blast you in Miami
Then we gon' creep to South Central
On a Street Knowledge mission, as I steps in the temple
Spot him, got him, as I pulls out my strap
Got my chrome to the side of his White Sox hat
You tryin' to check my homie, you best check yo' self
'Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, motherfucker
Yeah, nigga

So I don't want no dilapidated, two-faced, pigeon-toed
Bow-legged, cross-eyed son of a gun fuckin' with me (fuckin' with me)

(Oh-ooh)
(Oh, yeah, yeah) Yeah, nine-deuce, Dr. Dre
(Oh) Droppin' chronic once again
(Yeah-yeah, yeah) It don't stop
(Oh) punishing punk motherfuckers real quick like
(Yeah, yeah) Compton style, nigga
Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house, yeah (I don't, no, no-no-no-no, ayy)
Long Beach is in the motherfuckin' house (Long Beach)
Yeah, yeah (Compton)
Straight up, really doe (Death Row is in the house, yeah)
(Oh-Oh, yeah) Breakin' all them suckas off somethin' real proper-like
You know what I'm sayin'? (Yeah)
(Oh, whoa, whoa) All the sucka-ass niggas can eat a fat dick
(Yeah, yeah) Yeah, Eazy-E, Eazy-E
(Oh, yeah-yeah) Eazy-E can eat a big fat dick
Tim Dog can eat a big fat dick
(Oh-Oh) Luke, can eat a fat dick
Yeah (yeah)
(Oh yeah)
(Oh-oh, yeah, yeah) (Dogg)




(Oh-oh, yeah, yeah-yeah)
(Oh, yeah, yeah)

Overall Meaning

The lyrics to Dr. Dre's "Fuck Wit Dre Day" are a scathing takedown of former associates who have turned against him. Dre is angry at his former friend, Mista Busta, who has betrayed him and now faces an ultimatum from Dre. The lyrics are filled with aggressive imagery and threats against Busta and those who have crossed Dre in the past. Dre ends the song by telling anyone who tries to come at him again that they will face the wrath of Death Row.


The lyrics are a reflection of the street culture of the time and the animosity that existed between rival gangs. It's a song about respect and loyalty and how people who turn on their friends will face the consequences. The song notably features Snoop Dogg's early rapping and his unique style.


Overall, "Fuck Wit Dre Day" is a vicious attack against anyone who has wronged Dre and a warning to those who might try to do the same in the future.


Line by Line Meaning

Mista Busta, where the fuck you at?
Hey, Busta, where are you hiding?


Can't scrap a lick, so I know you got your gat
You can't fight, so I know you carry a gun


Your dick on hard, from fuckin' your road dogs
You're sexually aroused from sleeping with your male friends


The hood you threw up with, niggas you grew up with Don't even respect yo' ass
The people you grew up with in the hood don't even respect you


That's why it's time for the doctor to check your ass, nigga
That's why Dr. Dre needs to teach you a lesson


Used to be my homie, used to be my ace Now I wanna slap the taste out yo' mouth
We used to be friends, but now I want to hit you


Make you bow down to the Row Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little ho
Now you have to show respect to my crew, and I'm getting revenge on you


Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide Let me ride, just another homicide
I haven't forgotten what you did, and I'll make you pay for it. It's going to be deadly


Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on Stompin' on the easiest streets that you can walk on
I'm going to brag about myself and show how easy it is for me to defeat you


So strap on your Compton hat, your locs And watch your back 'cause you might get smoked, loc
Put on your Compton hat and glasses and be careful, or you might get killed


And pass the bud and stay low-key B-G 'cause you lost all your homies' love Now call it what you want to You fucked wit' me, now it's a must that I fuck wit' you
Smoke some weed and keep quiet. You no longer have your friends' support. You messed with me, and now it's time for me to mess with you


(You better raise up) Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talkin' about (you better raise up) We have your motherfuckin' record company surrounded Put down the candy and let the little boy go (you better, you-you, you better) You know what I'm sayin'? Punk motherfucker (you better raise up) (Better raise up) (Dogg)
Your record company is under siege. Let go of the innocent boy you're using as a shield. You know what I'm saying, you punk? You better surrender


Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay Death Row's in the motherfuckin' house Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay The sounds of a Dogg brings me to another day
I'm Doggy Dogg, and I represent Death Row. My music makes me feel alive


Play, with my bone would you Timmy? It seems like you're good for makin' jokes about your jimmy Well here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like I heard she was a 'Frisco dyke
Timmy, let's joke about our genitals. Your mom might not like this one. I heard she's a lesbian from San Francisco


But fuck your mama, I'm talkin' about you and me Toe to toe, Tim M-U-T Your bark was loud but your bite wasn't vicious And them rhymes you were kickin' were quite bootylicious
But forget your mom, let's talk about you and me fighting. Your rhymes were weak even though you acted tough


You get with Doggy Dogg, oh is he crazy? With your mama and your daddy hollerin', "Baby" So what that let you know? That if you fuck with Dre, nigga you're fuckin' wit Death Row
If you mess with me, you're dealing with Death Row. I'm crazy, and even your parents can't help you


And I ain't even swangin' them thangs I'm hollerin', "187" with my dick in yo' mouth, biatch (biatch)
I don't even need guns to threaten you, I can just use my words. I'm yelling the police code for murder with my genitals in your mouth


Yeah nigga, Compton and Long Beach together on this motherfucker So you wanna pop that shit and get yo' motherfuckin' cranium cracked, nigga? Step on up, now, we ain't no motherfuckin joke so remember the name Mighty, mighty D-R, yeah, motherfucker (shit done hit the fan) (Dogg)
Compton and Long Beach are united. If you try to challenge us, we'll hit you hard. Do not forget our name: Death Row


Now understand this, my nigga Dre can't be touched Luke's bendin' over, so Luke's gettin' fucked, busta Musta thought I was sleazy Or though I was a mark 'cause I used to hang with Eazy
Don't mess with Dr. Dre. The rapper Luke is in trouble because of me. You might have thought I can be manipulated because I used to hang with Eazy-E


Animosity, made you speak what you spoke (yeah) Ayo Dre (what up?) Chip this nigga off loc
You're speaking out of resentment, so Dr. Dre is telling me to get rid of you


If it ain't another ho that I gots to fuck with Gap teeth in ya mouth so my dick's gots to fit With my nuts on ya tonsils While you're onstage rappin' at your wack-ass concert And I'ma snatch yo' ass from the backside To show you how Death Row pull off that hoo-ride Now you might not understand me 'Cause I'ma rob you in Compton and blast you in Miami Then we gon' creep to South Central On a Street Knowledge mission, as I steps in the temple Spot him, got him, as I pulls out my strap Got my chrome to the side of his White Sox hat You tryin' to check my homie, you best check yo' self 'Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, motherfucker Yeah, nigga
I'm going to mess with another person, and since he has a gap in his teeth, my penis will fit easily. I'll grab him from behind and show him how Death Row operates. You might not understand what I'm saying because I'll rob you in Compton and kill you in Miami. We're going to South Central on a mission to educate people. I'll see him, kill him, and hold my gun to his head. If you mess with my friend Dre, you'll mess with yourself


So I don't want no dilapidated, two-faced, pigeon-toed Bow-legged, cross-eyed son of a gun fuckin' with me (fuckin' with me) (Ohh-ooh) (Ohh, yeah, yeah) Yeah, nine-deuce, Dr. Dre (Ohh) droppin' chronic once again (Yeah-yeah, yeah) It don't stop (Ohh) punishing punk motherfuckers real quick like (Yeah, yeah) Compton style, nigga Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house, yeah (I don't, no, no-no-no-no, ayy) Long Beach is in the motherfuckin' house (Long Beach) Yeah, yeah (Compton) Straight up, really doe (Death Row is in the house, yeah) (Oh-ohh, yeah) Breakin' all them suckas off somethin' real proper-like You know what I'm sayin'? (Yeah) (Oh, whoa, whoa) All the sucka-ass niggas can eat a fat dick (Yeah, yeah) Yeah, Eazy-E, Eazy-E (Oh, yeah-yeah) Eazy-E can eat a big fat dick Tim Dog can eat a big fat dick (Ohh-ohh) Luke, can eat a fat dick Yeah (yeah) (Ohh yeah) (Ohh-oh, yeah, yeah) (Dogg) (Ohh-oh, yeah, yeah-yeah) (Ohh, yeah, yeah)
I don't want to deal with someone who's indecisive, two-faced, or has strange limbs. Dr. Dre is dropping his new album 'The Chronic' in 1992. We don't stop to punish those who disrespect us. We represent Compton and Long Beach. All those fake people can go away. You get it? Eazy-E, Tim Dog, and Luke all can go away




Lyrics © DAZAMATAZ, INC., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BRET D. LEWIS DBA SMOKING WORD RECORDS, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: Andre Romell Young, Cordazar Calvin Jr. Broadus, David Lee Spradley, Garry Marshall Shider, George Jr. Clinton

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Ermis


on Fuck You

best dr.dre song and that phone call in the beginning funny ash

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