Do Yo Gudda (Remix) (feat. Problem, YG & Kendrick Lamar)
[Hook: Hitta J3] Do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda D-do yo gudda, do yo gudda Go from your head to your waist Go from your head to your waist Do yo gudda Like you holdin’ two straps Then throwing on your ski mask Do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda D-do yo gudda, do yo gudda Like you holdin’ two straps Then throwing on your ski mask Do yo gudda, d-do yo gudda D-do yo gudda
[Verse 1: Problem] First off, R.I.P fo’ Compton, California in case you didn’t know All up on Durham with a pretty white ho Made it out the hood but I’m still psycho Kid wanna play, better call Tyco Money always right nigga, no typo Stay high in the sky like my next flight go Do my thug, one glove, I’m the next Michael Gudda, gudda, go bad on ‘em Synchronize the surprise, have ‘em land on ‘em Back when bone had the cut in ‘88, no fake Shot the L little Doug and baby eight
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Hitta J3] (Hitta J3) Straps I keep two They want an explanation, but pigs, I don’t speak to Nuclear bombs, we’re making the most noise Boys in the hood, I’mma do ‘em like Doughboy Go, here comes the sirens Block is hot as the irons Swerving on Avalon I’m reppin’ the deuce like Bobby Johnson Glocks shoot ‘em like murder Got both of ‘em like Kirk Come deep like we on some buckets Ride through with no interruptions From your head to your waist, they do it in every city With my Chucks and my Dickies I’m on Ciroc like I’m Diddy Aim for his head, knock him right on his Cortez Not only a dance it’s your regular program
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Kendrick Lamar] I’mma do my gudda like it’s my bread and butter Hit my nigga, on his cell, oh little L that’s my brother Tell me that a female wanna fuck with the K-Dot Eat it up, then beat it up, my MO baby, may I? Two times, I do mines, I knew mines, I do fine I keep bread and croutons, we bust ass then move on What’s happenin’? I’m bagging through a bitch and gettin' richer Bought some toys for the kids, bought a chopper for my nigga, yup And I’m jiggin’ in the function, I throw my arms up with my index finger pumpin’ A brand new dance coming straight up out of Compton Little K-Dot from the A-block and I’m Rosecrans thuggin’ huh
[Verse 4: YG] (Guns shots) Ayy, thats how I sound when I get off Tree top Bompton, hold on let me get my shit off Strapped, hope I don’t get caught, hold up, let me shit talk The 745 and Rosecrans had them pissed off My gudda keep a slug and a clip that holds numbers ‘Cause I be in the Porsche riding through the bity all summer Ducking from the under covers on my second level Still in the streets now [?] half you muthafuckas (ay) Fronting with the Chuck T’s [This my creed, this my steez nigga on P's] Ninth grade at Paramount High I was fucking edgy Socking out any motherfucker that couldn’t stand me I did my gudda
[Hook]
[Outro: Hitta J3] (x2) You can love it or can hate But I got it just in case Grab and pull 'em off your waist Like you aiming for his face