Friday, September 26, 2008

Gin and Juice


I watched the Country Music Awards last night. I don't know why. I just happen to fall upon it. Sometimes when I am surfing channels, I get fascinated by two things, CMT and BET. Costumes and styling. They are the two most vivid things on TV, I think, superficially different but much the same, really. All that posturing, making up language. Molly Cyrus hosted with her father. All American, just like Vanity Fair and Annie Liebowitz.

So, if you want to hear the similarities and the fusion, I've included versions of "Gin and Juice" from both Snoop Dogg and The Gourds. There was a video on YouTube of The Gourds playing and Snoop in a big cowboy hat rapping, but I can't find it. If anyone can, send me a message. I would love to have that.

I can't embed the video, so you have to click the link.


The lyrics:

Gin and Juice
By Snoop Doggy Dogg
As played by the Gourds

With so much drama in 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 friends as I breeze, through
Two in the mornin and the party's still jumpin
Cause my momma ain't ho-ome
I got bitches in the living room gettin it on
And, they ain't leavin til six in the mornin
So what you wanna do sh*t
I got a 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 hoes
So we gonna smoke a ounce to this
G's up, hoes down, while you motherf**kers bounce to this

Chorus: repeat 2X

Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice
Laid back with my mind on my money and my money on my mind

Verse Two:

Now that I got me some Seagram's gin
Every body got their cups, but they ain't chipped in
Now this type of shit, happens all the time
You gotta get yours before I get mine
Everything is fine when you listenin to the D-O-G
I got the cultivating music that be captivating me
Who listens to the words that I say
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 bytch

Chorus

Verse Three:

(slows down)
Later on that day
My homey Dr. Dre
Came through with a gang of Tanqueray
And a fat ass J,
(speeds up)
Of some bubonic chronic that made me choke sh*t
It ain't no joke, I had to back up off of it,
Sit my cup down

(stops) Yeah, Tanqueray and chronic, well I'm f**ked up now (speeds back up)
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 hoes, I'm out the do'
And I'll be

Chorus
Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice {beeotch!!}
Laid back with my mind on my money and my money on my mind

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