OL' DIRTY BASTARD - Ol Dirty's Back lyrics

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

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