Lyrics Poppin' Them Collars - Master P
[Snoop
Dogg
& (Master
P)
talking]
Hey
yo
(Ghetto
Postage)
Give
me
something
that
makes
a
nigga
wanna
pop
his
motherfuckin′
collar
(With
a
lil'
West
Coast
twist
on
it)
(Master
P
and
Snoop,
ha
ha,
tah
dow,
poppin′
collars]
[Chorus
with
Master
P
& Snoop
ad-libs]
Pop
those
collars
Pop
those
collars
Pop
those
collars
That's
the
just
the
way
we
do
it
Pop
those
collars
We
changed
the
game
[Snoop]
Slid
up
in
the
door,
get
up
in
ya
ho
Sippin'
on
some
Mo
with
Big
D
from
the
mad
ass
6-0
Stretched
out
on
the
couch
with
some
Mary
Jane
Doghouse
nigga,
we
all
in
the
same
game
An
every
nigga
in
my
click
got
the
platinum
chain
Blang,
blang
Doggy′s
Angel′s
same
thang
Eastsidaz
same
thang,
rip
riders
ask
my
nephew
Kokane
[Master
P
& Snoop
together]
Cause
game
recognize
game
and
we
got
it
No
Limit
and
Dogg
Pound,
we
rowdy,
get
em'
up
We
bang
bang
[Snoop]
On
this
music
that
we
make
ho
In
the
cars,
the
clubs,
or
when
we
smoke
dope
We
drop
that
shit
for
you
kin
folk
And
poor
folks
no
joke,
loc
loc
Blaze
a
sack
loc,
bust
a
back
stroke
And
pop
ya
motherfuckin′
collar
till
ya
break
ya
back
loc
[Chorus
with
Master
P
& Snoop
ad-libs]
[Master
P]
Ah
dog
we
off
the
heezy
Snoop
and
P
together
for
cheesy
Poppin'
collars
from
the
South
to
the
Wizest
We
off,
see
the
tank
around
our
nizeck
We
O.G.
show
me
love
And
the
Baker
Boys
started
the
buzz
Now
we
California
livin′
like
Dre
and
Pac
And
them
No
Limit
boys,
see
we
can't
be
stopped
Me
and
E-Feezy
go
way
on
the
bizack
Remember
Baby
D,
TRU
it
and
Prizack
My
essay
homie,
chop
chop
got
the
dizope
While
me
and
Xzibit
was
ballin′
by
cizoast
I'm
the
black
Slim
Shady
so
don't
try
to
play
me
Turn
a
six
into
a
Bentley
and
drive
em′
crazy
Roll
up
to
Eastside
back
to
the
West
Represent
Richmond,
California
to
the
South,
respect
[Chorus
with
Master
P
& Snoop
ad-libs]
[Snoop]
I′ll
bless
you
before
I
diss
you
Y'all
miss
me,
shit
I
miss
you
So
sweet,
so
sure
but
so
low
So
just
let
it
all
go,
serious
we
sick
of
this
Dog
homie,
ask
ya
kids
they
put
chu′
up
on
it
On
the
corners
they
poppin'
they
collars
While
back
in
the
days,
shit
niggas
used
to
stack
they
dollars
Make
a
nigga
wanna
holler
Playas,
pimp,
p-poppers,
impersonators
Real
rip
riders,
Eastsidaz
and
regulators
Haters
come
in
all
shapes,
sizes
and
colors
But
we
on
top
of
thangs
so
they
can′t
get
above
us
Hate
us
or
love
us,
we
rollin'
with
the
heat
huggers
Thuggers,
house
party
niggas
fuck
clubbers
With
anine
in
my
pockets,
poppin′
my
collar
pushin'
and
shovin'
[Hook
with
Master
P
& Snoop
ad-libs
to
fade]
1 Intro
2 Problems
3 Bout Dat
4 Don Is Back
5 Doo Rags
6 Golds In They Mouth
7 Poppin' Them Collars
8 Souljas
9 Pockets Gone Stay Fat
10 My Babooski
11 Still Ballin'
12 Soulja Boo
13 Hush
14 Roll How We Roll
15 It Don't Get No Better
16 Always Come Back To You
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