Huh Yeah Comin' back with that east coast flavor 1994 Yeah Mista Busta, where you at? Can't scrap a lick, hey yo, those rhymes is whack You need to keep yo corny ass at makin' beef You be soundin' like a kid from Sesame Street Tryin' to dis D-O-G when that ain't right Sickin' Snoopy on me when that ain't right Gettin' funky on me when that ain't right When I be givin' it to your girl every other night I get down for my crown and I represent Do whatever I gotta do just to pay the rent And if it means dissin' you fool and yo crew fool I'm comin' to your house with the Bronx Zoo Rappers frontin' on the dog on the mic get stepped upon And when you get crapped upon, you can stomp like a leprechaun Straight up, word up for the real deal Not Hollyfield but still I might send in the dogs just like Mike Tyson When I'm grabbin' the mic, everything is alright, yeah And I just lay back in the flow Rappers wanna step to me but they just don't know That I'm the dog It's the dog, baby, baby The dog, baby, baby The dog, baby, baby Tim Dog! Yeah! Comin' back with that east coast flavor Yeah! Comin' back like that! I'm sittin' in my crib watchin' MTV When this skinny muthaphukka on the telly try to dis me baby He try to flex on the D-O-G But if I gave that punk binoculars, he still couldn't see me So shake your bones and your rattle And leave your toy 9 at home and bring your skills to the battle Like Jeru, I'm gonna damage Lookin' for success and your ass is a Burger King sandwich It's a pity fake niggas gotta show off I'll bust yo skinny ass with a sawed-off Shotgun! Didn't even know that I got one I'm aimin' at your brain, come in my House of Pain Suckers try to flip, yo, I'm comin' quick With some super, super bad Boogie Down Bronx shit You rappers better run and hide Tell yo ho Dr. Dre I got somethin' to ride [let me ride] On my D-I-, see ya? Told you you would D-I-E if you ever step to the D-O-G Punk, you besta know the game My nutsack is bigger, so what's my name? It's the dog, baby, baby The dog, baby, baby The dog, baby, baby Tim Dog! I came in the door, I said it before I never dissed that punk Dr. Dre no more But he's bitin' me, fightin' me, invitin' me to rhyme I can't hold it back, I'm gonna go for mine The original hardcore lyric ballbreaker When it comes to whack MCs, no, I'm not a funk faker I just smash, crash on that ass, and put that ass in the trash Like it's nothin' you learned in class I'm a real MC and I'm on my own And if nobody got my back, I can hold my own If I die, I die, if I live, I live But if hip-hop survive, I got somethin' I can give I don't care if you don't think I can win word And I don't care if you don't wanna be my friend word And if the Pound get mad and they wanna step in Come on and step right in, step right in to the It's the dog, baby, baby The dog, baby, baby The dog, baby, baby Tim Dog!