Countdown (feat. Swizz Beatz)

Ten, nine, eight, seven

Six, five

Four, three

Two, one

Snoop Dogg

****, understand

West Coast, Son of Sam

Drummin' with a hundred bands

'Cause that ain't shit to a real Crip cuz

You swallow every clip before a **** slip cuh

LBC, yeah we gets love

2-1-3, rest in peace Nate

It's real in the field, keep you cleats laced

Crack a bitch, hit the switch and make the back scrape

Damn, smoke a pound when I move around, yeah

The world is my lounge chair

Real sharks turned guppies, y'all drown here

When everyday to me is New Years Eve

Swizzy, the countdown

Ten, nine, eight, seven

Six, five

Four, three

Two, one

Snoop Dogg

Now, I'm back in another bag

Glock in the grip

Never gonna slip, I put the R in Crip

C's up, G's up, B's up (Ow)

He's up, We's up, East up

Get a real women, don't trust these slu-

And when you're 'round the cops

Don't say three much

It gets cold for a winner in the Winter

For a rich Crip, chicken getter, Big Dogg

Pick of the litter, stopped drinkin' 'cause my liver

Act up and I'll bring back the savage like a rental

Gold and black flannel, grip, grippin' on the handles

Sellin' weed, sellin' songs, got shows on four channels like

Ten, nine, eight, seven

Six, five

Four, three

Two, one (Countdown)

Snoop Dogg

Go crazy in this motherfucker, right now

Go crazy in this bitch, motherfuckin' now

Go crazy in this bitch right, right now

Go crazy in this bitch, right, right

C-R-I-P

Y'all ain't gon' never see a G like me again

So get a glimpse of a winner

A rich Crip, chicken getter

Swizzy, the countdown

Ten, nine, eight, seven

Six, five

Four, three

Two, one (Countdown)

Snoop Dogg