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(feat. 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!) |
printable copy of the lyrics to Ol Dirty's Back |
| 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!) |
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[Verse One: 12 O'Clock]
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Shit is crazy real in the field
I watched niggaz 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 niggaz sellin cocaine, you're too blame Black people lives ain't the same And that's the Tale in my Hood Niggaz is up to no good, you better watch em in them hoods |
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[Verse Two: Ol Dirty Bastard]
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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 |
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(Fuck all that motherfucking drug selling shit
I wanna see some motherfucking lyrics I wanna hear some motherfucking lyrics What up nigga, what?) |
Anything wrong with the lyrics to "Ol Dirty's Back" on this page, Would you please report that ? |
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Hahahahahahahahahahaha
I got you nigga |
Lyrics are provided for educational purposes only |
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[Verse Three: 12 O'Clock, Ol Dirty Bastard]
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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 |
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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 niggaz 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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