| Yo it’s the Ox in the flesh, of course I’m fresh
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| Yes, I’m livin for the funk like I was Lord Finesse
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| Last night I screamed till I lost my voice I guess
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| Had a few things left to get up off of my chest
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| Like I’m, facing the fact that I’m not, what my mom wanted
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| Only gold plaque that I got, had the Qu’Ran on it
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| I fliped your eviction notice over, wrote a song on it Like to hear it, here it go, light your spirit, clear your soul
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| If I would’ve known that tonight was Ladie’s Night
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| I would’ve stopped and swabbed my balls with the baby whipe
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| In the van, Hold your sorry little life in my hand
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| Watch me toss it in the sky and swing right for the stands
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| Battling me is like trying to ride your bike in the sand
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| I’ma eat one more helping, then I’m, whiping my hands
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| And you frustrated rappers, must hate the fact
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| That I walk in first class, have so much ladies gaspin for breath
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| Tryin to catch me, with the ass and the chest
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| I ain’t tryin to be rude lady, I’m just passin a test
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| Got enough hastle and stress, with one woman cashing my cheques
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| I’ll take the compliment and pass on the sex
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| We like
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| Brother Brother Brother, how ya making 'em get down
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| Come, straight to your town, vibrating the ground
|
| Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound
|
| Thats our policy, we step out there on Star Quality
|
| Brother Brother Brother, how ya making 'em get down
|
| Come, straight to your town, vibrating the ground
|
| Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound
|
| Thats our policy, we step out there
|
| You ain’t hardcore, you soft more than Shamar Moore
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| In a tight shirt sayin 'Let's slow this train down ya’ll'
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| You stink hoes, spills a whole, lot of nothing
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| Got the nerve to look Ox in the eye, you got it coming
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| While your woman nod her face to the beat, you tasting defeat
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| Whiping the waste from my cleets, between the space in your teeth
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| Erogation, facial features all hung down
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| That little dumb frown is perfect for salt water to run down
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| Talk harder to some clowns, cause they need it rough
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| Make sure they never sleeping deep enough to dream of beating me, what
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| My styles a little belligerent, isn’t it?
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| Considerin that Im belittling them, with little more then
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| My pad and my pen and my sediments
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| Weither its your chorus scratching, or wack track blasting,
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| Your whole approach to rapping, is ass crack backwards
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| Cats’ll see me in the spot and act salty
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| Stressing you save hip hop, you can’t even save a wack party
|
| We like
|
| Brother Brother Brother, how ya making 'em get down
|
| Come, straight to your town, vibrating the ground
|
| Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound
|
| Thats our policy, we step out there on Star Quality
|
| Brother Brother Brother, how ya making 'em get down
|
| Come, straight to your town, vibrating the ground
|
| Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound
|
| Thats our policy, we step out there
|
| And the preachers say
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| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| And the choir say
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| And the preachers say
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| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| And the choir say
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| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| Brother Ali is Two Hundred, Fifty Pounds of Piss and Vinegar
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| Few try to sit me down, they missing limbs and
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| I got nothing on, but a lifestyle, black tuxedo
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| An Arethra Franklin record, and Im rockin Captain Ego like
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| 'Dun Dadda, Shit, Ya Done Poppa'
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| There’s only three reasons Ali would need a Ramada
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| One; |
| to move the bowels, two; |
| to steal the towels
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| Three; |
| Shave, shower, pray for my spiritual power
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| I can handle this, if my man Ant would just
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| Give me a chance to splatter some antics across his canvisses
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| Damage is unavoidable at this point
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| I twist joints till they pop lock, too loud and get ya knot rocked (?)
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| Im too proud to let you hop scotch through
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| The section of the Earth that I occupy, without making you testify
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| Best that I could do for you, is ingore you
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| Cause Id probably conquer you if I explore you
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| Words from the Brother.
|
| We like
|
| Brother Brother Brother, how ya making 'em get down
|
| Come, straight to your town, vibrating the ground
|
| Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound
|
| Thats our policy, we step out there on Star Quality
|
| Brother Brother Brother, how ya making 'em get down
|
| Come, straight to your town, vibrating the ground
|
| Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound
|
| Thats our policy, we step out there
|
| And the preachers say
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| And the choir say
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| And the preachers say
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| And the choir say
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah
|
| Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah |