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(Verse 1) |
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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 |
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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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(Chorus) |
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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 |
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Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound |
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Thats our policy, we step out there on Star Quality |
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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 |
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Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound |
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Thats our policy, we step out there |
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(Verse 2) |
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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 |
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(Chorus) |
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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 |
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Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound |
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Thats our policy, we step out there on Star Quality |
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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 |
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Keep the people out there scared, of making a sound |
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Thats our policy, we step out there |
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(Chorus 2) |
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And the preachers say |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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And the choir say |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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And the preachers say |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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And the choir say |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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(Verse 3) |
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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. |
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(Chorus) |
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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 |
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(Chorus 2) |
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And the preachers say |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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And the choir say |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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And the preachers say |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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And the choir say |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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(Outro) |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |
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"Oh Ah Hey, Oh Ah Hah" |