Damage Lyrics
| Song | Damage |
| Artist | Ol' Dirty Bastard |
| Album | Return to the 36 Chambers |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Intro： | |
| Peace [peace!] | |
| [Dirty, Ol Dirty Bastard] | |
| [The Genius! Genius] | |
| The Genius [The Genius, the Genius] | |
| Verse One: Ol Dirty Bastard [GZA in brackets] | |
| I'll grab and the mic and now I damage you, cut your whole stamina | |
| Here comes the medical examiner | |
| One verse then you're out for the count | |
| [Bring the ammonia] make sure he sniffs the right amount | |
| Wake him up and then I ask him | |
| Why did he intend this -- | |
| competition to get an ass kickin so tremendous | |
| Boy you shouldn't bother this | |
| Leave me alone like the [son said G or 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 stepped up to a jet black kid, started speakin spanish! | |
| Yo he wasn't from Panama | |
| I asked him how he get so dark, the nigga said suntama! | |
| He responded so fast, you made me laugh] | |
| Ha-ha-ha, HARARRRH [then I scared-his ass!] | |
| [Kick the hundred strongest rhymes | |
| I brought out the punk in him | |
| Caught him with a strong five deadly venom | |
| Told him enter the Wu-Tang | |
| Witness the Shaolin slang, that'll crush the 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 a rhyme [then I'll change to Hitler] | |
| Go out like Nazi; you'll be wishin your fuckin ass stayed | |
| home and played [Yahtzee!] | |
| Or watchin Happy Days sweatin [Poxie] | |
| with Ralphie and Richie Cunningham, Joni and [Chachi] | |
| Wu, who? Me gettin wreck so I'm through | |
| Like a ten and a half foot, gettin in a seven [shoe] | |
| [Now picture THAT with a Minolta] | |
| Have your ass doin some Night Fever shit like John Travolta | |
| I come strong I make knowledge born, I flip the script | |
| and rock on from P.M. [past the fucking Dawn] | |
| Pass the Hammer you're broke down, niggaz grab my what what | |
| Can't understand it here's the panaroma | |
| [A complete view of how I defeat you] | |
| Should of stepped to those fuckin kids who tried to [beat you] | |
| Yeah I bust that ass before | |
| [You ran to Texas and came back but forgot the chainsaw!] | |
| And want to perform a massacre | |
| Better be coming with some motherfucking shit that's spectacular | |
| Crush the person who did em, well you just better | |
| So I'm stepping to your [raggedy ass jetta] | |
| Put the pedal to the metal | |
| You and your DJ change your name to Ma and Pa Kettle | |
| as I [pass the bone, kicks your every measure] | |
| It's not a Newport but it's still live with pleasure | |
| [C'mon don't be silly, just a bag of sensimilli | |
| Rolled up in a] Motown Philly | |
| [I used to write all the time when I smoked | |
| Grab the mic, then I kinda like went for broke | |
| With visually concepts strongest rhymes and biceps | |
| Lyrically speakin, three to four rhymes then choke | |
| Some think they be harmin this, claimin they be bombin this] | |
| But they still remains a-nom-ynous | |
| I pull strings like Jimi Hendrix | |
| Ride more beats that go backs to the days of Eddie Kendricks | |
| I teach the truth to the youth, I say [hey youth] | |
| Here's the truth, better start wearing [bullet proof] | |
| Arm yourself with a shield | |
| [Before you get trapped up] just like the Children in the Cornfield |
| Intro: | |
| Peace peace! | |
| Dirty, Ol Dirty Bastard | |
| The Genius! Genius | |
| The Genius The Genius, the Genius | |
| Verse One: Ol Dirty Bastard GZA in brackets | |
| I' ll grab and the mic and now I damage you, cut your whole stamina | |
| Here comes the medical examiner | |
| One verse then you' re out for the count | |
| Bring the ammonia make sure he sniffs the right amount | |
| Wake him up and then I ask him | |
| Why did he intend this | |
| competition to get an ass kickin so tremendous | |
| Boy you shouldn' t bother this | |
| Leave me alone like the son said G or 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 stepped up to a jet black kid, started speakin spanish! | |
| Yo he wasn' t from Panama | |
| I asked him how he get so dark, the nigga said suntama! | |
| He responded so fast, you made me laugh | |
| Hahaha, HARARRRH then I scaredhis ass! | |
| Kick the hundred strongest rhymes | |
| I brought out the punk in him | |
| Caught him with a strong five deadly venom | |
| Told him enter the WuTang | |
| Witness the Shaolin slang, that' ll crush the 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 a rhyme then I' ll change to Hitler | |
| Go out like Nazi you' ll be wishin your fuckin ass stayed | |
| home and played Yahtzee! | |
| Or watchin Happy Days sweatin Poxie | |
| with Ralphie and Richie Cunningham, Joni and Chachi | |
| Wu, who? Me gettin wreck so I' m through | |
| Like a ten and a half foot, gettin in a seven shoe | |
| Now picture THAT with a Minolta | |
| Have your ass doin some Night Fever shit like John Travolta | |
| I come strong I make knowledge born, I flip the script | |
| and rock on from P. M. past the fucking Dawn | |
| Pass the Hammer you' re broke down, niggaz grab my what what | |
| Can' t understand it here' s the panaroma | |
| A complete view of how I defeat you | |
| Should of stepped to those fuckin kids who tried to beat you | |
| Yeah I bust that ass before | |
| You ran to Texas and came back but forgot the chainsaw! | |
| And want to perform a massacre | |
| Better be coming with some motherfucking shit that' s spectacular | |
| Crush the person who did em, well you just better | |
| So I' m stepping to your raggedy ass jetta | |
| Put the pedal to the metal | |
| You and your DJ change your name to Ma and Pa Kettle | |
| as I pass the bone, kicks your every measure | |
| It' s not a Newport but it' s still live with pleasure | |
| C' mon don' t be silly, just a bag of sensimilli | |
| Rolled up in a Motown Philly | |
| I used to write all the time when I smoked | |
| Grab the mic, then I kinda like went for broke | |
| With visually concepts strongest rhymes and biceps | |
| Lyrically speakin, three to four rhymes then choke | |
| Some think they be harmin this, claimin they be bombin this | |
| But they still remains anomynous | |
| I pull strings like Jimi Hendrix | |
| Ride more beats that go backs to the days of Eddie Kendricks | |
| I teach the truth to the youth, I say hey youth | |
| Here' s the truth, better start wearing bullet proof | |
| Arm yourself with a shield | |
| Before you get trapped up just like the Children in the Cornfield |
| Intro: | |
| Peace peace! | |
| Dirty, Ol Dirty Bastard | |
| The Genius! Genius | |
| The Genius The Genius, the Genius | |
| Verse One: Ol Dirty Bastard GZA in brackets | |
| I' ll grab and the mic and now I damage you, cut your whole stamina | |
| Here comes the medical examiner | |
| One verse then you' re out for the count | |
| Bring the ammonia make sure he sniffs the right amount | |
| Wake him up and then I ask him | |
| Why did he intend this | |
| competition to get an ass kickin so tremendous | |
| Boy you shouldn' t bother this | |
| Leave me alone like the son said G or 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 stepped up to a jet black kid, started speakin spanish! | |
| Yo he wasn' t from Panama | |
| I asked him how he get so dark, the nigga said suntama! | |
| He responded so fast, you made me laugh | |
| Hahaha, HARARRRH then I scaredhis ass! | |
| Kick the hundred strongest rhymes | |
| I brought out the punk in him | |
| Caught him with a strong five deadly venom | |
| Told him enter the WuTang | |
| Witness the Shaolin slang, that' ll crush the 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 a rhyme then I' ll change to Hitler | |
| Go out like Nazi you' ll be wishin your fuckin ass stayed | |
| home and played Yahtzee! | |
| Or watchin Happy Days sweatin Poxie | |
| with Ralphie and Richie Cunningham, Joni and Chachi | |
| Wu, who? Me gettin wreck so I' m through | |
| Like a ten and a half foot, gettin in a seven shoe | |
| Now picture THAT with a Minolta | |
| Have your ass doin some Night Fever shit like John Travolta | |
| I come strong I make knowledge born, I flip the script | |
| and rock on from P. M. past the fucking Dawn | |
| Pass the Hammer you' re broke down, niggaz grab my what what | |
| Can' t understand it here' s the panaroma | |
| A complete view of how I defeat you | |
| Should of stepped to those fuckin kids who tried to beat you | |
| Yeah I bust that ass before | |
| You ran to Texas and came back but forgot the chainsaw! | |
| And want to perform a massacre | |
| Better be coming with some motherfucking shit that' s spectacular | |
| Crush the person who did em, well you just better | |
| So I' m stepping to your raggedy ass jetta | |
| Put the pedal to the metal | |
| You and your DJ change your name to Ma and Pa Kettle | |
| as I pass the bone, kicks your every measure | |
| It' s not a Newport but it' s still live with pleasure | |
| C' mon don' t be silly, just a bag of sensimilli | |
| Rolled up in a Motown Philly | |
| I used to write all the time when I smoked | |
| Grab the mic, then I kinda like went for broke | |
| With visually concepts strongest rhymes and biceps | |
| Lyrically speakin, three to four rhymes then choke | |
| Some think they be harmin this, claimin they be bombin this | |
| But they still remains anomynous | |
| I pull strings like Jimi Hendrix | |
| Ride more beats that go backs to the days of Eddie Kendricks | |
| I teach the truth to the youth, I say hey youth | |
| Here' s the truth, better start wearing bullet proof | |
| Arm yourself with a shield | |
| Before you get trapped up just like the Children in the Cornfield |
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