One Eight Seven

With pop journalists confusing people I assume there are very few people who understand this song by Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre. This is how I have understood it since ’96. It would be nice if it could be found somewhere on the internet, but I have it on C.D. Weird how no one seems to have it online even though it’s how the death row label got its name.

I was playing this when I took this picture and the story is about the same. Except I don’t really know if I helped with the drug abuser. Someone with experience with drug users gave the first blow, he grew bigger. Unnatural. Later I heard the smoking room door open and felt it was him. Check out the first line of the song. I pointed at him and said (in Dutch) something along the lines of: “We don’t want no junkies around here.”. I didn’t see him but I’m quite sure it was him, he left without saying anything.

About a month later someone died of drug abuse in another psychiatric clinic. Drugs and manic tendencies don’t mix.

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I can feel it

[dr. dre]


Niggers that I used to know and sell dope wit’

Listen to how a motherfucker flow shit

And let me know what's up and they can blast on

Thinkin' about the homeys that passed on.

Death row come to show you all the game at                                                 {Closed wards are for those who are considered

                                                                                                                      to be a danger to themselves or others.}

And show you how my label got the name that

So many wanna see me, and time is money,


But never in the p-e-n, yo.


Welcome back to viet nam, california.


Ain't a damn thing changed, so let me warn you.


Every motherfuckin minute you on the west side,


The best side, 20 niggers that just died.


Walkin' down the streets of L.A.

Stay strapped cause niggas bust caps every day, yo                                       {Drugs}

The 1-8-7 don't stop, on undercover cops,

So on this spot gettin' popped, shot,


Droppin' like this and like that,

Rat-tat-tat-tat with their caps peelin' back.

So creep when you in the c-p-t.


You catch heat from fuckin' with' the d-r-e.

I got my eyes on the shit unfolding.


And there ain't gonna be no trippin'


Cause they know the type of shit that I be holding.

If there's another word said,


I'll let my forty-fo' go buck to the head, nigga.

Yeah, and you don't stop,


Cause it's 1-8-7 on a motherfuckin cop

Yeah, and you don't stop,


Cause it's 1-8-7 on a motherfuckin cop


[snoop dogg]


3 and to the 2 and 2 and to the 1,


Head away, sent away, get away snoop's got a gun,


And he's lookin' for the cops who set him up in '86


Now it's time to put they ass in the mix.


Back on the streets with my khakis and my scars,

Nuts full of cavi and I'm headed for the bar.


Scared as a motherf**ker, cause I'm fresh out,

But I got to make my green, and plus they all fiend


Follow me, they keep yellin' murder, but it won't stop,

Until the last nigga that you know drop.


Another nigga out, but I doubt that you really give a fuck what it's about.

Now, 99 pigs on a block with me,
                                          {Probably a stalker or something creating confusion}

Not a motherfuckin' cop wanna knock with me,


A c-o-n-v-i-c-t, the motherfuckin' d-o-g, comin' from the l-b-c.

Look at what the doc brought in,


A chrome 38, a fo'ty-fo' mag, and mack 10                            {A pretty nurse, an old one, and a big guy. One to keep

                                                                                           ‘em quiet, one with experience and one with brute force}

So what you wanna do? (what you wanna do? )

I got the gauge, a uzi and the mothafuckin 22                        {Streetwise guys}

So if you wanna blast, nigga we can buck ‘em

If we stick 'em then we stuck 'em so fuck ‘em!

Yeah, and you don't stop,


Cause it's 1-8-7 on a motherfuckin cop

Yeah, and you don't stop,


Cause it's 1-8-7 on a motherfuckin cop

Splat to a motherfucker face, he fall.

Strong motherfucker cause he starts to crawl.

I guess I gots to load the glock again.


Hit 'im with the hollow points and watch him spin.


Fuck it, I had to do this quick.


Grabbed the glock 17, the clip went click.


Tried to detect, but did not detect perfect

So I creep on that ass, pops him and drops him.


That ought to stop from beatin' up blacks,


Dead in his tracks, from a full six pack.


Relax, cause I'm about to take my respect.

I aimed the twelve gauge straight for his neck.

Boo-yaa! boo-yaa! then I fade into the wind.


1-8-7 and it's on again.


Well it's on, and it's on, and it's on, and it's on,

Fo'-fo' desert eagle to your motherfuckin' dome


And it's on, and it's on, and it's on, and it's on,

Fo'-fo' desert eagle to your motherfuckin' dome.

Fuck 'em, buck 'em, if they really wanna trip,

Niggas keep your hands on your motherfuckin' shit.

Yeah, and you don't stop,


Cause it's 1-8-7 on a motherfuckin cop


Yeah, and you don't stop,


Cause it's 1-8-7 on a motherfuckin cop...

© Koos Swart 2013