| Song | Ain't Nut'in Personal |
| Artist | Snoop Dogg |
| Album | The Game Is To Be Sold, Not To Be Told |
| 作词 : C Murder ... | |
| Kill, kill, kill | |
| How many killas you got on your mother fuckin' pay roll nigga? | |
| Snoop Dogg, | |
| C-Murder and | |
| Silk the Shocker, no limit biatch | |
| Nigga nigga | |
| I'ma rida, ride with | |
| G'sAnd ship keys overseas by the three's | |
| Keep an eye on my enemies | |
| Snoop and | |
| Silk in da back of the | |
| LacWith that | |
| AKs limosine tint with a infra-red | |
| Mother fucker gonna die tonight | |
| That's why | |
| I smoke weed get high tonight | |
| I'ma no limit soldier with tru dated in blood | |
| I went to jail for years, for movin' bundles a drugs | |
| Murda murda, kill, kill if you put me in danger | |
| I ain't trippin' on and ain't be needin' no strangers | |
| I'ma tank representer till | |
| I'm history | |
| Making playa hatas into a mother fucking memory | |
| So throw 'em up if you a soldier | |
| And Snoop | |
| Dogg pass tha mother fucking dosha | |
| I know you mother fucking feel me | |
| C-murder ain't gonna die, till a bitch nigga kill me | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain't nut'in personal tru you see it's all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I'm never got slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain't nut'in personal tru you see it's all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I'm never got slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Now how many niggaz you know that can fuck around | |
| And die and come back? | |
| Then get hooked up with the number one label and rap, like that? | |
| Shit I can't be duplicated but | |
| I'm highly playa hated | |
| And I been reinstated and | |
| I thank God that | |
| I finally made it | |
| Fated many niggas, just to get one mack | |
| Remember I'm that young nigga that put gangsta rap on the map | |
| He never craps, only five deuces | |
| I mix that | |
| Moet, white star with them orange juices | |
| I hang out with real niggas like | |
| Silk and C- | |
| MurderTru niggas, do niggas like you niggas | |
| Ghetto ass, lower class never hesitate to blast | |
| And I'm so serious about my hustlin' gots to have my cash | |
| Can you imagin' if | |
| I was broke? | |
| Shit I wouldn't be bustin' no raps | |
| I'd have my strap running up in your fuckin' throat | |
| Takin' all your dough and your gold and your cars' | |
| Cuz big Snoop | |
| Dogg ain't no mother fucking rap star | |
| See I'ma gangsta and you are not | |
| And you a sucka and | |
| I rockI'm draped in my army fatigues blowing on green trees | |
| In the Navigator and keep the heat for them paper hatas | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain't nut'in personal tru you see it's all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I'm never got slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain't nut'in personal tru you see it's all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I'm never got slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Now look at murda, murda, murda and this kill, kill, kill | |
| Shit's real, stay strapped with capped, do get pealed | |
| And mama always told me if you ain't down to ride with | |
| GodDown to die with | |
| God you ain't no mother fucking soldier | |
| No limit datted on my back and my stomach' | |
| Cuz I'ma mother fucking fool, uh, show me love' | |
| Cuz when I make music with thugs, | |
| I make moves | |
| Told you I was coming out hard | |
| I was coming out large | |
| Seen this guy named | |
| Van I bring the pain 'em | |
| Everybody coming out stars | |
| See now me, | |
| C, and Snoop in da coupe | |
| Conversatin' about loop | |
| I told niggas rap shit isn't bad, | |
| I blast 'em 'fore | |
| I ask 'em, | |
| I shootJust a young nigga 'bout raising hell and makin' mail | |
| You a trip | |
| I told you | |
| I was doing this shit on bail, it's cool | |
| Back up nigga, can't flame that shit like drugs | |
| And see I'ma nigga, | |
| I'm gonna hang like a nigga | |
| Bang that shit like it was crips and bloods | |
| Now deal weed nigga strapped up in my fatigue can't hold me down | |
| Don't even trip my nigga | |
| Snoop if you a soldier now | |
| Do what ya think bitch | |
| For this tank bitch | |
| I stay quick and work | |
| And I got no limit scattered on my fucking forehead | |
| That's why | |
| I do so much dirt | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain't nut'in personal tru you see it's all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I'm never caught slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Kill, kill, kill |
| zuò cí : C Murder ... | |
| Kill, kill, kill | |
| How many killas you got on your mother fuckin' pay roll nigga? | |
| Snoop Dogg, | |
| CMurder and | |
| Silk the Shocker, no limit biatch | |
| Nigga nigga | |
| I' ma rida, ride with | |
| G' sAnd ship keys overseas by the three' s | |
| Keep an eye on my enemies | |
| Snoop and | |
| Silk in da back of the | |
| LacWith that | |
| AKs limosine tint with a infrared | |
| Mother fucker gonna die tonight | |
| That' s why | |
| I smoke weed get high tonight | |
| I' ma no limit soldier with tru dated in blood | |
| I went to jail for years, for movin' bundles a drugs | |
| Murda murda, kill, kill if you put me in danger | |
| I ain' t trippin' on and ain' t be needin' no strangers | |
| I' ma tank representer till | |
| I' m history | |
| Making playa hatas into a mother fucking memory | |
| So throw ' em up if you a soldier | |
| And Snoop | |
| Dogg pass tha mother fucking dosha | |
| I know you mother fucking feel me | |
| Cmurder ain' t gonna die, till a bitch nigga kill me | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain' t nut' in personal tru you see it' s all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I' m never got slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain' t nut' in personal tru you see it' s all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I' m never got slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Now how many niggaz you know that can fuck around | |
| And die and come back? | |
| Then get hooked up with the number one label and rap, like that? | |
| Shit I can' t be duplicated but | |
| I' m highly playa hated | |
| And I been reinstated and | |
| I thank God that | |
| I finally made it | |
| Fated many niggas, just to get one mack | |
| Remember I' m that young nigga that put gangsta rap on the map | |
| He never craps, only five deuces | |
| I mix that | |
| Moet, white star with them orange juices | |
| I hang out with real niggas like | |
| Silk and C | |
| MurderTru niggas, do niggas like you niggas | |
| Ghetto ass, lower class never hesitate to blast | |
| And I' m so serious about my hustlin' gots to have my cash | |
| Can you imagin' if | |
| I was broke? | |
| Shit I wouldn' t be bustin' no raps | |
| I' d have my strap running up in your fuckin' throat | |
| Takin' all your dough and your gold and your cars' | |
| Cuz big Snoop | |
| Dogg ain' t no mother fucking rap star | |
| See I' ma gangsta and you are not | |
| And you a sucka and | |
| I rockI' m draped in my army fatigues blowing on green trees | |
| In the Navigator and keep the heat for them paper hatas | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain' t nut' in personal tru you see it' s all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I' m never got slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain' t nut' in personal tru you see it' s all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I' m never got slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Now look at murda, murda, murda and this kill, kill, kill | |
| Shit' s real, stay strapped with capped, do get pealed | |
| And mama always told me if you ain' t down to ride with | |
| GodDown to die with | |
| God you ain' t no mother fucking soldier | |
| No limit datted on my back and my stomach' | |
| Cuz I' ma mother fucking fool, uh, show me love' | |
| Cuz when I make music with thugs, | |
| I make moves | |
| Told you I was coming out hard | |
| I was coming out large | |
| Seen this guy named | |
| Van I bring the pain ' em | |
| Everybody coming out stars | |
| See now me, | |
| C, and Snoop in da coupe | |
| Conversatin' about loop | |
| I told niggas rap shit isn' t bad, | |
| I blast ' em ' fore | |
| I ask ' em, | |
| I shootJust a young nigga ' bout raising hell and makin' mail | |
| You a trip | |
| I told you | |
| I was doing this shit on bail, it' s cool | |
| Back up nigga, can' t flame that shit like drugs | |
| And see I' ma nigga, | |
| I' m gonna hang like a nigga | |
| Bang that shit like it was crips and bloods | |
| Now deal weed nigga strapped up in my fatigue can' t hold me down | |
| Don' t even trip my nigga | |
| Snoop if you a soldier now | |
| Do what ya think bitch | |
| For this tank bitch | |
| I stay quick and work | |
| And I got no limit scattered on my fucking forehead | |
| That' s why | |
| I do so much dirt | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| Ain' t nut' in personal tru you see it' s all about respect | |
| Kill, kill, kill, murda, murda, murda | |
| I' m never caught slippin', keep my heat on the dash | |
| Kill, kill, kill |