RANDOMODDNESS

Kick a little somthin' for the G's...

Monday · February 25, 2002 · 04:53 PM

Sweet hairy Venus on a half shell, this is some funny shiznit! Gin and Juice, as played by The Gourds, with sort of a Country/Bluegrass flair. This has replaced my previous funny thing to check out on the web when you’re bored.

These guys are my new heroes. Even Snoop likes the cover!

For those that aren’t familiar with the original, here are the lyrics. I’m mostly putting this up here to give those Google searchers something to find. I could have just linked an audio version of the original tune, but I like to feed that wacky Google machine. (Who’s searching for “pictures of girl in biohazard suits”?)

Gin and Juice
by Snoop Doggy Dogg
[Sound of urinating. Yes, that’s how it starts, I promise. Technically this is from the end of the previous track (G Funk Intro), but none the less, this track starts with the sound of someone peeing.]

With so much drama in the L-B-C,
it’s kinda hard bein’ Snoop D-O-double-G.
But I, somehow, some way,
keep comin’ up with funky ass shit, like every single day.
May, I, kick a little something for the G’s
and, make a few ends as I breeze, through?
Two in the mornin’ and the party’s still jumpin’,
cause my momma ain’t home.
I got bitches in the livin’ room gettin’ it on
and, they ain’t leavin’ till six in the mornin’.
So what you wanna do?
Shit, I gotta pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too.
So turn off the lights and close the doors.
But (but what) we don’t love them whores. Yeah.
So we gonna smoke a ounce to this.
G’s up, ho’s down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this:

Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ In-do, sippin’ on gin and juice.
Laid back. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ In-do, sippin’ on gin and juice.
Laid back. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

Now that I got me some Seagram’s gin,
everybody got they cups, but they ain’t chipped in.
Now this type of shit, happens all the time – you gotta get yours before I gotta get mine.
Everything is fine when you listenin’ to the D-O-G:
I got the cultivating music that be captivating he,
who hears the words that I speak.
As I take me a drink to the middle of the street
and get mackin’ to this bitch named Sadie.
She used to be the homeboy’s lady.
Eighty degrees, when I tell that bitch please,
raise up off these N-U-T’s, cause you gets none of these, at ease.
As I mob with the Dogg Pound, feel the breeze. Biatch!

Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ In-do, sippin’ on gin and juice.
Laid back. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ In-do, sippin’ on gin and juice.
Laid back. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

Later on that day, my homey Dr. Dre,
came through with a gang of Tanqueray, and a fat ass J,
of some bubonic chronic that made me choke, shit, this ain’t no joke
I had to back up off of it, and sit my cup down.
Tanqueray and chronic, yeah I’m fucked up now.
But it ain’t no stoppin, I’m still poppin,
Dre got some bitches from the city of Compton.
To serve me, not with a cherry on top
cause when I bust my nut, I’m raisin’ up off the cot.
Don’t get upset girl, that’s just how it goes.
I don’t love you ho’s, I’m out the do’! And I’ll be:

Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ In-do, sippin’ on gin and juice.
Laid back. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ In-do, sippin’ on gin and juice.
Laid back. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ In-do, sippin’ on gin and juice.
Biatch! With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

Rollin’ down the street, smokin’ In-do, sippin’ on gin and juice.

Biatch! With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.