Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Brooklyn Zoo II [Tiger Crane], artist - Ol' Dirty Bastard.
Date of issue: 05.10.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Elektra Entertainment, Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English
Brooklyn Zoo II [Tiger Crane] |
One two, one two -- you taping this? |
All types of shit yo let that shit ride |
Word to mother, turn up the microphone! |
Get all that good shit, get all that good shit |
One two, one two, one two… one two |
Now niggaz know |
Ssssshhhit, yo yo check this out, check this joint |
This is strictly for the radio, yo I just want all y’all to know |
The reason why I curse is because my momma and my daddy |
They grew up cursin |
So please respect my style, please! |
Verse One: Ol Dirty Bastard |
I’ll grab the mic and now I damage you, cut your whole stamin-u |
Ohh, sssshit, nahh |
I’ll grab the mic and now I damage ya, cut your whole staminuh |
Here comes the medical examinuh |
One verse then you out for the count |
Bring the ammonia make sure he sniffs… the right amount |
Ya yo, I’m sorry, un-gah-e-gas-e-ya |
I’ll grab and the mic and now I damage you, cut your whole stamiNUH |
Here comes the medical examiNUH |
One verse then you’re out for the count |
Bring the ammonia, make sure he sniffs the right amount |
Wake you up and then I ask you |
How do you intend this -- |
competition to get an asssss kickin sooooo tremendous, RARRH! |
You shouldn’t bother this |
Leave me alone like a son he’ll be fatherless! |
I got the asiatic flow mixed with disco |
Roll up on the scene like the Count of Monte Crisco |
and MC’s start to vanish |
I rolled up on a jet black kid the nigga started speakin spanish |
Yo! |
You wasn’t from Panana! |
I asked you how you get so fuckin dark, you said suntama |
He responded so fast, you made me laugh |
Ha-ha-ha, HARARRRH scared-his ass! |
Kick the hundred strongest rhymes |
then I brought out the punk in him |
Roll up with the strong five deadly venoms |
Told HIM! |
Enter the Wu-Tang! |
Witness the Shaolin slang, that crush any shit you bring |
I watch your ass take a big fall, why?! |
My Main Source, is like a friendly game of stickball |
And as you step up to bat man, I play the riddler |
You try to do me for my nigga I’ll change to Hitler |
I’ll go out like Nazi, wish your fuckin ass stayed |
home and play Yahtzee! |
Or watchin Happy Days sweatin Poxie |
with Ralphie and Cunningham, Joni and Chachi |
[Yo Unique, yo kid |
Check this shit out! |
Yo, yo] |
Verse Two: Ghostface Killer |
Ninety-five niggaz is wasted |
Keystone capered, and Wu kept the rap fiends basted |
Foamin out the mouthpiece, heads blown like geese |
Murderous police, I do shows and perform in Grease |
It’s not magic, gaming is the gadget |
World classic big national high attracts dear graphics |
Lampin in my own zone, my physical show |
Inhale bones Tony stuck, for the diamond in Rome |
He’s convincin, labelled one man rap convention |
The nigga that’ll gun down, eighty frenchmen |
Lead vocalist, music specialist, rap arsonist |
I deal with sharpness plus spark the hardest individual |
I plant crimes inside vocals |
My rap’s like my passport, my life’s my proof |
Hit the sun roof, be out like a wanderin dream |
Shuttle, and get startled off the verbal hygiene, my nigga |
Shame on you when you step through to Ol Dirty Bastard, Brooklyn Zoo! |
Shame on you when you step through to Ol Dirty Bastard, Brooklyn Zoo! |
What?!! |
My nuh |
Shame on you when you step through to The Ol Dirty Bastard, Brooklyn Zoo |
Shame on you when you step through to THe Ol Dirty Bastard, Brooklyn Zoo |
To the West coast! |
To the East coast |
To the North coast |
To the South |
When you take North, East, West, South |
Put it all together and it spell NEWS! |
Then you got the ol rhythm, bastard blues |
and ya don’t stop |
So keep your shit, motherfucker, fucker, fucker! |