Lyrics

What's yo' name? What's yo' naaaaaame? Burp My name is, Ol Dirty Bastard... and I'mma Alkaholik Yeah me too nigga Singin some crazy shit You're now rockin with Tha Liks so start reachin for the ozone I see some girls I know but y'all look different with your clothes on What's up though, Tash came to steal it like the Grinch While I'm leavin niggas puzzled like I said my shit in French But it's all Olde English that I'm bringin from beneath Try to bite my style on wax and watch these lyrics crack your teeth Cause I make words Connect like Westside when I test glide My drunken lyrical hanglider, nobody's tighter Than a ruff rap provider, with ninety ways to peel ya So I know the three words (Tash'll kill ya) sound familiar I filter out the weak everytime I speak I drink to hit the peak to make my mind go (beep) I'm def-da-fyin, you rappin like my client Tryin to scrape me for the style that slam harder than Kobe Bryant BE QUIET! This is Likwidation from the West Motherfuck ya boozy show, I got my own special guest Yo, yo, breaker breaker breaker one-nine I bust this bitch in the behind with the silver shine Cause she thought she was fine She winked at me, I thought it was fine This nigga poutin, this ho was mine I had the alcohol in me, took my time Let a nigga ro-tate turn on the table Put in the diamond needle, pull it to your ego What? You the king in the chair on my ground The Tyson of sound, it's twenty seconds to a round Scavenger nigga, youse a shrimp, a full line of shit My ear can't digest it Stop drinkin all that motherfuckin water, let's take it to the land So I can Godzilla up your sheeit, Mr. Tiny Tim man Niggas be creepin up my beanstalk When I start to come down on your fuckin asses Try to chip shit on up, get these nuts Motherfucker WHAT!! The Ro pimped the flow like a ho, so I should rap on the mack-raphone My rhymes hittin hard enough to crack a bone I divide square MC's like math Bend you in half and drink a Genuine Draft I stop him, then I skied out with all wampum When he's layin on the ground, I let my Dog Scrilla chop him (Switch reels) I feels its all about skills The outcome's unbelievable like Tyson/Holyfield Your lyrics are loaners return em to they rightful owners My style is wild, like G's or the pistolas No need to ask, I put you on like a ski mask We can Fight the Power like this was P.E. class I Bomb Squads like Hank Shock Peace to my nigga Scott puttin stickers on the block Burp I drink more Brewsters than Punky It's the further adventures of the hip-hop drunkies You bithces are hoes Put it in ya like my motherfuckin ho Or in your butthole/earhole Wherever the fuck it goes (Repeat 2X) Yeah, yo, yo, yo No disrespect to any architect Who tried to perfect, oh what the heck I'm a MC director, rhyme inspector Rated top ten, Brooklyn borough sector Its the Packtown original b-boy I'm rappin What's happenin, so dope got the pope clappin I'm smackin, on some chicken, what you kickin You trickin, while I'm vickin hoes you stick your dick in Step outta place, Tash'll smack your taste out your face Cause there's nowhere to hide unless you move to outer space Cause I waste motherfuckers like toxic fumes So you betta (make room) when you hear the (boom boom) Hey sugar plum, how can you assume That the pitch of the volume, doesn't have no tune I'm not your everyday, regular rap star peddler One on one at your rap seminar Beware of the Hard Way, Three's the Hard Way At you fuckers... So aiyyo, my name is J-Ro And my style is so dope they call it ya-yo I don't rap fast, I love green grass Nuttin nice on the mic, call me a mean ass Extra da-llama, bring hahaha Extra extra bring the da-llama A better one, then slice-a-versa God acre, massacre murdered Also known as a rap wrecka, not a rhyme rebel You're just rhyme to survive streets Like the acre without the attic, but not the only Asiatic True God but my dick is my lightning rob Ho don't kick that mumbo jumbo... See this the type of shit niggas don't try at home I come funkin up the spot like Micheal Jordan's cologne With the megadrunken, style to keep the crowd pumpin Niggas lookin at me like, 'Tash is up to somethin' (Get drunk and I stumbled) but I didn't come to trip I came to bring it to ya humb-le Tumb-le all your plots and all your plans Ol Dirty's in the house and that's my motherfuckin man! Outro It's the Likwid crew Comin through with Ol Dirty from the Wu Passin your party, jettin out with allt he brew So what y'all new, niggas think you wanna do? (Repeat 2X)
Writer(s): Eric Brooks, Marlon Lu Ree Williams, James Anthony Robinson, Russell Jones, Rico Smith Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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