I really hope that we hear these lyrics during the Super Bowl halftime show...
Now understand this, my ni@@a Dre can't be touched
Luke's bending over so Luke's getting fvcked, buster
Must've thought I was sleazy
Or thought I was a mark 'cause I used to hang with Eazy
Animosity made you speak what you spoke (Yeah)
Ayo, Dre (What up?) Chip this ni@@a off, loc
If it ain't another ho that I gots to fvck with
Gap teeth in your mouth so my d!ck's gots to fit
With my nuts on your tonsils
While you're on stage rappin' at your wack-a$$ concert
And I'ma snatch your a$$ from the backside
And show you how Death Row pull off that who-ride
Now you might not understand me
'Cause I'ma rob you in Compton and blast you in Miami
Then we gonna creep to South Central
On a street knowledge mission as I steps in the temple
Spot him, got him, as I pulls out my strap
Got my chrome to the side of his White Sox hat
You tryna check my homie, you best check yourself
'Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, motherfvcker (Yeah, ni@@a)