| Sup? |
| Let’s go.
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| (Yo Snoop Dogg! Yo Dre! Yo Too $hort! E-40, and the motherfucking Click!)
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| Nuff respect to the West coast.
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| (Duhhn duhhn duhhn)
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| Yo, Ol Dirty Bastard coming through
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| Know what I’m saying? |
| I got the East coast locked the FUCK down
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| Hear my SHIT, nigga! |
| (Dirty dirty dirty, Brooklyn!)
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| Verse One: 12 O’Clock
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| Shit is crazy real in the field
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| I watched niggaz blood get spilled over five dollar bills
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| And major drug deals on the real
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| See a nigga get meals and his bitch get him killed
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| In this American dream to get some cream
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| You’re ownin a Beem, and your face in magazines
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| 12 O’Clock maintains in the game
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| Bring the Pain to smokin Method, main
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| It’s not all about the fame, silly ass dames
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| Get a gold record and you change
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| And for the niggaz sellin cocaine, you’re too blame
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| Black people lives ain’t the same
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| And that’s the Tale in my Hood
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| Niggaz is up to no good, you better watch em in them hoods
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| Verse Two: Ol Dirty Bastard
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| I always thought livin life was easy
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| Go to school, get a job, yo it couldn’t be me So instead, I played my bed
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| My momma got fed, and now a nigga livin with a dread
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| My best fuckin friend, knew him since ten
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| Nigga feed me CREAM, let me whip the Benz
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| Houses all over Texas, lightning gold Lexus
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| He had enough respect to dress this
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| Expensive Tim suits, girl wearin fly Gucci boots
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| Put me on like POOK!
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| Every morning that I awake
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| Ten G’s in my fuckin face, combination to the safe!
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| Son run the state, carrying coke by the weight
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| Nigga put pounds in the weed gate
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| And it’s ran by Ol Dirty
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| 12 O’Clock, my little brother, he keeps it dirty
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| Dirty
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| [Fuck all that motherfucking drug selling shit
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| I wanna see some motherfucking lyrics
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| I wanna hear some motherfucking lyrics
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| What up nigga, what?]
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| Hahahahahahahahahahaha
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| I got you nigga
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| Verse Three: 12 O’Clock, Ol Dirty Bastard
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| I’ll rip mics on site you know the type
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| New Jack, this is my City like Wesley Snipes
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| Go fly a kite or somethin, make some muffins
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| I come up bad in the town like Charles Bronson
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| Now set your speaker and I’ll do you for that reason
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| 12 is no joke I bring wreck through the seasons
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| Solomon, contend, many more but just when
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| That Joker act you can save for Jack Nicholson
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| One two and three, through your rap fatigue
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| In the MC world, is a minor league
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| What you speak, you swear it’s unique
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| It’s just a peek, physique, of an old antique
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| Don’t expect a project, then it’s bound to freeze
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| Your whole head is stuck and stiff
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| Next Siamese, I never liked rhymes
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| That’s incomplete, then again obsolete
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| I shall repeat, there’s an Easy Street
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| For niggaz who earned, then learn your sojourn
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| Then you return, as an intelligent, positive, messanger
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| Not an experiment negative Lucifer
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| With a tittling gloss of crafted skin
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| Nothing like spring sauce, of the true origin
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| Who would score, the wizard of war
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| Came in best man was a god damn dinosaur
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| No more jungle-like living, from the Blue Lagoon
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| It’s not an Animal House, National loon Lampoon
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| If you understand the what when
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| Why how, are you fellas who exempt
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| or to disallow, a fresh MC, that will knock you down
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| I gets dizzy spellbound like a merry-go-round
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| While I’m freaking, shall I expose
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| You take a subject, and then you decompose… |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Ol' Dirty's Back , by - Ol' Dirty Bastard. Song from the album Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп