Change The Game [remix] Lyrics - Tha Dogg Pound

Uhh, uhh, uhh, let's go 

Uhh, bounce, uhh, bounce 

Uhh, bounce, uhh, 

Shit relax your mind, let your conscience be free 

You're now rollin with them thugs from the R-O-C 

Sigel Sigel in the house 

Uh-huh, sick bastard 

Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer 

Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in the house 

Still here, never left 

Still bust, more or less, still puff, beeatch! 

Uh, uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, uhh 

Young Hova in the house, Jigga! Yeah 

Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga! 

Hold up love 

Everytime you see Jigga Man I'm rollin on dubs 

Don't forget about them blades shit choppin it up 

It's the motherfuckin Roc bitch, who hotter than us? 

Jay-Hov, bout to change my name to Jay Peso 

But in the meantime, call me William H. though 

On the platinum Yamaha, got the engine gunnin 

Throwin it up like liquor on an empty stomach 

Y'all don't hear nuttin? 

Who that, Mac? 

Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek comin 

Who the FLUCK, want, what? 

Catch Bleek in South Beach out of the reach of the police 

Gat on my lap (yeah) bitch on my back (holla) 

Yak in my pocket, smokin the sticky chocolate (OO-WEE!) 

Holla if you want drama with 

The Dynasty; Amil, Bleek, Jigga and 

Sigel, Desert Eagle dawg, who else but me? 

Roc ears, Roc-Wears, bandannas and white tees 

Me without a gun dawg, unlikely 

You know I keep the heat right under the wifebeat' 

Three-X-T, I'm Lincoln now, you can't see the pound 

Got a little gut so gat sit tucked (fuck) 

I run wild, gun high, L.A. style 

Bang the roscoe to the sunrise, plus I stay dumb high 

Whether block shit or rock shit 

Club shit or drug shit, I pop shit I got shit 

Get Sig' any track I'ma spit the talk to it 

Down South gon' bounce Crips gon' walk to it 

Get a ounce, get a woods, everybody spark to it 

Every dawg, every Blood in the hood, bark to it 

Get the ounce, get the woods, everybody spark to it 

We can smoke in here, put the choke in the air 

Don't change the game for these hoes 

Who plays the game like we supposed 

Sigel Sigel in the house 

Uh-huh, sick bastard 

Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer 

Don't change the game for these hoes 

Who plays the game like we supposed 

Memph Bleek in the house 

Still here, never left 

Still bust, more or less, still puff, beeatch! 

Don't change the game for these hoes 

Who plays the game like we supposed 

Young Hova in the house Jigga! 

Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga! 

I wear more bling to The Source and Soul Train's 

More chains than rings, niggaz won't do a thing 

I bangs the four-four in plain, daylight I'm deranged 

Spray right at your brain; by the way this is Hov' 

One shot Dillinger, one shot killin ya 

It's only one Roc La Familia 

Sigel lock Philly up, Brooklyn is me 

Matter of fact, the East coast fuck took it from me 

Fourth album still Jay still spittin that real shit 

Volume 3 still sold more records than Will Smith 

Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin? 

Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh) 

Ex-sinner, Grammy award winner 

Ballin repeatedly, highlights on Sportscenter 

Please repeat after me, there's only one rule 

I will not, lose!