Ol' Dirty Bastard - Ol' Dirty's Back (ft. 12 O'Clock) | Текст песни

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• Ol' Dirty Bastard
• Ol' Dirty's Back (ft. 12 O'Clock)

Intro: Ol Dirty Bastard

Sup? Let's go
(Yo Snoop Dogg! Yo Dre! Yo Too $hort! E-40, and the motherfucking Click!)
Nuff respect to the West coast
(Duhhn duhhn duhhn)
Yo, Ol Dirty Bastard coming through
Know what I'm saying? I got the East coast locked the FUCK down
Hear my SHIT, nigga! (Dirty dirty dirty, Brooklyn!)

Verse One: 12 O'Clock

Shit is crazy real in the field
I watched niggas blood get spilled over five dollar bills
And major drug deals on the real
See a nigga get meals and his bitch get him killed
In this American dream to get some cream
You're ownin a Beem, and your face in magazines
12 O'Clock maintains in the game
Bring the Pain to smokin Method, main
It's not all about the fame, silly ass dames
Get a gold record and you change
And for the niggas sellin cocaine, you're too blame
Black people lives ain't the same
And that's the Tale in my Hood
Niggas is up to no good, you better watch em in them hoods

Verse Two: Ol Dirty Bastard

I always thought livin life was easy
Go to school, get a job, yo it couldn't be me
So instead, I played my bed
My momma got fed, and now a nigga livin with a dread
My best fuckin friend, knew him since ten
Nigga feed me CREAM, let me whip the Benz
Houses all over Texas, lightning gold Lexus
He had enough respect to dress this
Expensive Tim suits, girl wearin fly Gucci boots
Put me on like POOK!
Every morning that I awake
Ten G's in my fuckin face, combination to the safe!
Son run the state, carrying coke by the weight
Nigga put pounds in the weed gate
And it's ran by Ol Dirty
12 O'Clock, my little brother, he keeps it dirty
Dirty

[Fuck all that motherfucking drug selling shit
I wanna see some motherfucking lyrics
I wanna hear some motherfucking lyrics
What up nigga, what?]

Hahahahahahahahahahaha
I got you nigga

Verse Three: 12 O'Clock, Ol Dirty Bastard

I'll rip mics on site you know the type
New Jack, this is my City like Wesley Snipes
Go fly a kite or somethin, make some muffins
I come up bad in the town like Charles Bronson
Now set your speaker and I'll do you for that reason
12 is no joke I bring wreck through the seasons
Solomon, contend, many more but just when
That Joker act you can save for Jack Nicholson

One two and three, through your rap fatigue
In the MC world, is a minor league
What you speak, you swear it's unique
It's just a peek, physique, of an old antique
Don't expect a project, then it's bound to freeze
Your whole head is stuck and stiff
Next Siamese, I never liked rhymes
That's incomplete, then again obsolete
I shall repeat, there's an Easy Street
For niggas who earned, then learn your sojourn
Then you return, as an intelligent, positive, messanger
Not an experiment negative Lucifer
With a tittling gloss of crafted skin
Nothing like spring sauce, of the true origin
Who would score, the wizard of war
Came in best man was a god damn dinosaur
No more jungle-like living, from the Blue Lagoon
It's not an Animal House, National loon Lampoon
If you understand the what when
Why how, are you fellas who exempt
Or to disallow, a fresh MC, that will knock you down
I gets dizzy spellbound like a merry-go-round
While I'm freaking, shall I expose
You take a subject, and then you decompose...

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