The Ancient Sahore

Witchdoctor

    Continues after the ad

    (lady talking)
    No matter how advanced medical technology becomes
    many people still believe in the ancient healing arts
    *fades out*

    Verse 1:
    I had a dream I came up on a key
    Busted it down, nic'ed it all up and brought back forty G'z
    We put a big trap on the map
    Talkin' in code in case "twelve" got the phones tapped
    We got down wit niggas wit all types of skills
    From gun runnin', cookin' dope, stolen wheels
    That cheese was comin' in wit a grin
    We all up in the club, straight to spend
    And 'bout a hundred sippin' Mo'
    Didn't know that cooked swine tasted that same but just cost more dollars
    Let my nigga's ride my Impala
    Let's see if these hoes gone choose me
    Without thinkin about dollars
    Had a dream them keys cost a half a mil.
    Moved away, found a bitch and a crib
    Now I feel like God, talkin like a man whose face had the scar
    Ugh, We all know who you are
    If I only had twelve dollars i'd still feel like a star
    I tried to stay up in my bankin', listen close to this dream
    Dont run off and smoke no dank-in
    I dont use cocaine but in this dream I was totin'
    Got ta' scrappin' at the club and went ta' shootin'
    Blood runnin down my nose, caught that nigga who swung on me
    Pointed my gun and he froze, He said: (it wasnt me, it wasnt me!!!)
    Ugh, It was you, pulled the trigger he was through

    (chorus)
    Sahore, Sahore Sahore, Feel the doctor cure-ure-ure
    (Feel the doctor cure)
    Sahore, Sahore, Sahore, Fell the doctor cure-ure-ure-ure-ure-ure-ure

    Continues after the ad

    Verse 2:
    Months later got rid of that bitch
    But she wasn't no crook, got rid of her cause she couldn't fuckin cook
    I'm from the south so you know I cuss a hoe out
    I had to tell another hoe to straight roll out
    My outlook on female burned that summer
    Thought every bitch was a hoe but my momma
    The dope game got strange within seconds
    And as the third day, done ran off wit my other package
    I gotta do him when I see him,
    Aint gone ask no questions, just gone draw out and bust it
    And wit this sixteen shot Baretta
    Wit my initials E.J. ingraved in big ol' muthafuckin letters
    Learn, you can have money and not be at peace wit yo' self
    Now-a-dayz you gotta watch every muthafuckin' step
    Every move is costly, see in this drug game any muthafucka out here can croos
    me
    I told myself I gotta retire wit this eighty G stash
    But I had a lust for makin' cash
    A lil bit more then what I need, I think they call that shit greed, as I
    proceed
    I'm southern po' nigga, but in this dream I was a fiend for cash
    Fancy clothes had my ass
    Was my own clan gittin' shady? Buckets, Team , Buffy, do they wanna stuff me?
    Livin' wit a gun, never livin' at ease, almost everybody 'round that street
    sleez
    You lucky if u make it out alive
    Ask that nigga that been robbed before and didn't die
    And that dream about them key, the police one day gone hollar freeze

    (chorus)

    Straight from the southwest S.W.A.T.s
    Y'all niggas dont know what's in these, yeah
    Collage, Collage Park, E-Pat
    Like dis here, yeah (ahhh)
    We gone do dis here like dis here wit it, yeah

    Song details

    Composition: Organized Noize and Erin Johnson

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