About This Track
"The Dope Man" is a track by Cam'ron, from the album Purple Haze, released 7th December 2004. Full lyrics are available below.
Lyrics
[Intro: Cam'ron] Killa [Verse 1: Cam'ron] How I get robbed in Cali? I be with Cali thugs Got mobbed in Cali, yeah, that Cali love (Cali love) Come on, chattermouth, had my bling-blackers out (Come on) Stick me, what that about? I was the only rapper out (Only one) Beverly, Foxhill, Roscoe's, swap meet Slauson, Crenshaw, Compton, we not sweet Like I'm chump change, Jimmy with his dun game (Game) I'm fun aim, LAX gun range White Lotus, Felli Fel, holla'd at the kid proper (What up, Felli?) If something happen, skip rappin', they'll be big choppers (Big choppers) Ghetto bird, word, 'cause I keep the big chopper (Big chopper) No disrespect (Nope), niggas killed Big Poppa (Who else?) The Williams sister (Uh-huh), Romeo from Steve Harvey (What happened?) Got the drop, get the drop, no please, sorry (No sorry) Got weed on me (On me), no need guard me (Nope) I'm what you need probably (Probably), I teach robbery [Chorus: Jim Jones] We ride in that Eastside Please roll up my weed high We ride in that Westside The city where them TECs fly That dirty, dirty Southside Midwest up top when we outside But we ride in that Eastside So please roll up my weed high [Verse 2: Jim Jones] My mama always told me aim for the sky (Sky's the limit) So I came out bangin' and aimin' at guys It was mainly slangin' that 'caine by the pies (Pie two-fives) And the fiends was payin' for a dangerous high (Crack) Blow, peep, and ammonia, we mix it down It's no sleep on the corner, the pitchin' mound And police, when they saw us, they frisked us down We hold heat, marijuanas, they lick it down (Down) So tell Bloomberg it's a wrizzy (Fuck that) And take it back to '88 and move birds though my city GW Bridge, New Jers' with the pizzies (Uh-huh) Twenty-eight a key, the suburbs, they get busy (Patterson) And fuck the phones, get the word by mouth (Hang that up) When the winter roll around, know the birds fly south (Miami) And fuck the cops, got hella folks up in prison (Fuck the police) Had no other option but to sell coke for a livin' [Chorus: Jim Jones & Cam'ron] We ride in that Eastside Please roll up my weed high We ride in that Westside The city where them TECs fly That dirty, dirty Southside Midwest up top when we outside But we ride in that Eastside So please roll up my weed high (Killa) [Verse 3: Cam'ron] Dope man, smoke man, O's float the coast, damn (Coast) Wrote coke and postman, slow jams, coke land Roast, damn, sold grams, no ma'am Sell white, throw tan, tell her (I'll holla) Watch the kid from 140 bake (Bake) They say shorty straight (Grams) Twenty-eight grams turned four forty-eight (That's a half) Lord upstate bought the cakes, law offer four to eight All I do, ignore the jake, tell 'em (I'll holla) I still bubble O's (Those), still double those (Those) Still double my double, down in the double-O (Double-O) From the CO, love gets sent to daddy Akron, Springfield, Cleveland, Cincinnati (Cincinnati) That's Detroit, Minnesota, Greenpoint Naptown, Sactown, The Lou got some mean joints (Mean joints) We orangutan it, a Range, bang it Deranged strange, like Pac, I'm gang related (Killa, holla) [Chorus: Jim Jones] We ride in that Eastside Please roll up my weed high We ride in that Westside The city where them TECs fly That dirty, dirty Southside Midwest up top when we outside But we ride in that Eastside So please roll up my weed high
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
View full lyrics page →Track details
Explore
No coverage available for Cam'ron yet.

