Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ore-Ore-O, artist - Ali. Date of issue: 28.03.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Ore-Ore-O |
| (Ali) |
| C’mon, oooooooooooooooooooh, no, yo |
| (Just the north, south, east, west coast and us) |
| Hey, uh, it’s Lee I’m amazin', original Asian |
| Lime blazin' hatin’ll get you nowhere, but get me Hotter than Cajun, spontaneous combustion |
| My temperature’s raisin', nigga for days and days |
| Minutes I was just I been waitin' |
| From a shine, to reduce your regrimes |
| Dimes to raisins, you talkin' |
| Me? Naw naw player I’m sparklin' |
| Straight up parkin', hoppin' out with a Eagle barkin' |
| (Pop pop) Money, my car chop chop |
| Hot spot for the jewels, man I’m keepin' the Glock |
| You might get popped, I’m good ain’t no duckin' the dot |
| 2000 number J truck mansion and yacht (Ooooh!) |
| I say like uh uh (Ooooh!) I say like uh uh Should let you know, I’ma bring it really raw |
| It be like pat-b-b-b-b-b pat-b-b-b-b-b really raw |
| Come again now |
| (Chorus: Ali) |
| Hey! Hey! Ore-ore-ore-ore-o |
| If you real, let me hear you say |
| Hey! Hey! Ore-ore-ore-ore-o |
| If you all about your paper then you say |
| Hey! Hey! Ore-ore-ore-ore-o |
| If you real, let me hear you say |
| Hey! Hey! Ore-ore-ore-ore-o |
| (Just the north, south, east, west coast and us) |
| (Ali) |
| I need a trillion dollars for every breath I take |
| For heaven’s sake, just to keep righteous food on my plate |
| And I’m gon' get it, whether it be rap-rockin' if not |
| It’s back to crack-poppin' out the back of the barbershop |
| No holds barred, back streets to boulevards |
| Gain way, throwin' house parties in the PJ’s |
| Cars square village, love joy lane |
| Buddha 88 man it’s still the same |
| I can’t complain, I know niggas that lost they brain |
| Got they chest removed, straight vestibules |
| Don’t test a fool, who ain’t got shit to lose |
| That ain’t cool, now he gotta rep off of you |
| That’s why I stay to myself, stay alive and teach |
| Puff that oohwee and keep the snub-nose in reach |
| I ain’t a thug, so nigga I ain’t gon' start that now |
| I’m Mr. Nigga that kept work and carried the four pound |
| (Chorus: Ali) |
| (Ali) |
| You want to feel made? Roll with me for a day |
| Excursion weight, absolutely splurgin' way |
| Okay first, my team a hundred deep at least |
| Respected highly on the street |
| Cause we don’t start no beef, in the club |
| Murphy suede, human grenade |
| And some handmade, hide the haze |
| Behind the Cartier Rolls tinted |
| E’er word I speak I’m in it Hip hop; we in it, from now until infinite |
| We like ten foster kids bringin' daddy business |
| We turn the heat up to Tae-Bo in the club we post the Guinness |
| We had the guard spook one of my gods then broke loose |
| Had to buck a clown, too much Crown with no juice |
| Icy noose, bluey suit outside cute |
| Inside room ugly as a pea-green suit with ruffles |
| We fold up chairs in a tussle |
| Outside we gon' put somethin' harder than muscles |
| (Chorus: Ali) |
| Hey! Hey! Ore-ore-ore-ore-o |
| Hey! Hey! Ore-ore-ore-ore-o |
| Hey! Hey! Ore-ore-ore-ore-o |
| Hey! Hey! Ore-ore-ore-ore-o |
| (Just the north, south, east, west coast and us) |