Lyrics D. Original - Jeru The Damaja

D. Original

Dirty rotten scoundrel,
that’s what I’m called on the street
Could connive and cheat but rarely get beat
Ya see I’m streetwise, a con-game pro
Kickin' the Bobby bullshit, too smart for Willie Bobo
Not stressin' five-o,
hot hand in cee-lo
Live in the land of crooks yes Brooklyn’s the borough
Homicide central, East New York
Where the manic depressive psycho murderers stalk
Walk like a ninja on the asphalt
Here talk is cheap, you’re outlined in chalk
And there’s more hardtimes than on Good Times
And most niggas dedicate their life to crime
So I’m steady schemin', won’t work for a dime
Used to get tax free loot all the time
Type slick can’t fess on 'Ru because
I’m the original dirty rotten scoundrel
Before trains were graffiti proof I used to get loose
Dirty rotten since the days of the deuce
Dirty because of the skin I’m in,
the fact I have —
Melanin automatically makes me a felon
Even though I’m righteous rotten’s what you’re yellin'
But I’m not chain-snatchin', or drug-sellin'
According to your books you said I would be damned like Ham
Scoundrel, opposite of the king that I am
You wanna get funny?
We can get bummy
Take you to the East and back again money
Filthy putrefied trick, step past your sister
Challenge the Damaja, and you’ll be his-to-
Ry,
Mortal Kombat fatality
The Original, don’t sing no R&B
Nasty emcee deity,
chop off domes —
With the poems that come out of my pi-ne-al
Gland,
as I expand you know who I am
Father of all stylin', I be wildin'
on wax
We hack shit up like big ax and little ax
Don’t need toast to make you jump like bungee
Tracks real muddy like Brooklyn’s, real grungy
When I come through I clog up your sewer
Peep the maneuveur, drop the ill manure
So bring Mr. Clean, Drano, and Roto Rooter
No matter what you do you can’t get through the Crud that comes out of your
system
You’re another victim of Dirty Rotten
Dirt up in your grill, so what ya gonna do
But pay homage to (homage to, homage to)…