Conflicted Lyrics by Snoop Dogg (feat. Nas)
If God for me, who could be against me?
I guess all them n***** that’s against me
They the ones stirrin’ up the conflict
Then try to make it out like I’m conflicted
Bitches
East Coast n***** in six-fours hittin’ switches (Shit)
It’s not a conflict of interest
Cuh, them n***** with the business
West Coast n***** rockin’ them Timberlands deep up in them trenches
It’s no difference
Neither one play games when swingin’ for them fences
We want the finer things, the shit that’s expensive
The shit that hit ’em either close range or at a distance
If God for me, n****, why bother?
I got my game from the Godfather (Woof)
Top of the food chain, rock bottom
And handled my business when it was my problem
G shit, n**** flossin’ with a gold chain
I got my Turkish rope with matchin’ gold fangs
Bomber jacker in the winter, it’s a cold game
I met some East Coast n***** up in Spokane (What up?)
Some of the realest n***** in this dope game
I got my curly top, lookin’ like Special Ed
Clean fade on the side, bumpin’ that redhead
Clean tags when I ride, duckin’ the fed-feds
East Coast n*****, they get that bread-bread
You fuck with them n*****, you end up dead-dead
Them West Coast n*****, they leave that lead spread
And now you got bullets all in your dread head
If God for me, who could be against me?
I guess all them n***** that’s against me
They the ones stirrin’ up the conflict
Then try to make it out like I’m conflicted
Bitches
Still tryna fuck the riches
East Coast n***** in six-fours hittin’ switches (Shit)
It’s not a conflict of interest
Cuh, them n***** with the business
West Coast n***** rockin’ them Timberlands deep up in them trenches
It’s no difference
Fourth and inches
I’m finna hit a lick and handle business
I got a down bitch, she real vicious
Rock-a-bye baby, no witness
This is not even a conflict
You n***** on nonsense
N***** die the same way in Brooklyn and Compton
But n***** with that gang-gang, them n***** make a profit
N***** on top, n***** stay poppin’
Look, see, I was the high school Slick Rick, I was stylin’
Fat gold chain with an African medallion
Hip-hop connoisseur and Rollin’ 20 Crippin’
Rap game real tight, freestyle was magnificent
All about the clout and all about my dividends
Them older n***** couldn’t tell me different
I need a ’round the way girl to let me stick it in
Showtime at the Apollo
I’m drinking OE up out the bottle
Take two swigs and pour out a little liquor for my n***** who won’t live to see tomorrow
If God for me, who could be against me?
I guess all them n***** that’s against me
They the ones stirrin’ up the conflict
Then try to make it out like I’m conflicted