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Lyrics

(feat. C-Murder, E-40)
 [Intro: C-Murder]
 Tytanic, let's wake 'em up, ya heard?
 Yeah, it's real out here
 Killa block notch, wit' the ODB
 NYC, CP-3, nigga, what?
 Let me ask you a question
 What do you think about the game now? (What you think about it now?)
 How you feel like my name now (How you feel 'bout me now?)
 How you feel like C now?
 What do you think about the ODB now? (What?)
 What do you think about the game now? (What you think about it now?)
 How you feel like my name now (How you feel about me now?)
 How you feel like my name now (I told you I wanted somethin')
 [Ol' Dirty Bastard]
 Yeah, bite that point, the habit apprievin'
 No hope to find, that you're misbehavin'
 Link your crupid, fuck your brewin'
 Flash the burgers on your crewin'
 'cause the monks, skippin' from the other MC's
 I got the amazing ability
 I get on the mic so you can have a ball
 I could fly through the air and stick to the wall
 I could take a punch or get hit by a car
 Could go to the nearest or farthest star
 As a matter of fact it's what I won't talk about
 Pop a word out of trace just to be in the house
 [Chorus: E-40]
 So pimped out about my big spendish
 I got a 20, 6 O'Clock extra chrystall
 Anybody dat wanna pop off at the lip
 Anybody that wanna give me banana split
 It's only E-40, Murder in this bitch
 All the money motivated me to biatch
 Three soldiers from the East, South and West
 Street soldiers holdin' it down for they vets
 [C-Murder]
 I'm C-Murder, murder mass ten, I'm wit' the Dirty Bastard
 And my flows comin' faster than a jet to Alaska
 I ask ya how you feelin' my collabo'
 The CP3, the ODB from NYC the ghetto B
 Light it up, let it cook, look in the mirror, let me crush
 Don't worry about how it looks, put some momey on my books
 Only God can judge me now
 That's when I heard the click click, I was Christened
 I ain't with them are you wid that
 Let them whistles out them pistols
 Let loose on them troops and then shake 'em like Cherok smoke
 I slam dunk 'em like Shaq
 I wanna be free, I'm not guilty, do you feel me?
 [Chorus]
 [E-40]
 Hey sluggin', wanna hit this rock dowm (rock down)
 I only got one world, mane, I feel like take this to the thick of him
 Under there, got the smell, you do the hoe you hear
 Fuck it there, let me get a swig of that Thunder Bird
 OK, it's cute, it's squashed
 Now, no though mane, lets have a back wash
 Yeah you trippin', \"no I ain't\", yeah you is
 That boy spittin', what's his name? 40, quarter, biatch
 [Ol' Dirty Bastard]
 I stage a place, place stage a me
 I'm a vision of truth, just a true MC
 Love hiphop so much, mic won't untouched
 Thugs grow unbust, bitch won't get fucked
 Every 40 ounce cracked, every napsack packed
 Ol' Dirty kickin' your ass, the record gets scrapped
 Oh, the record gets scrapped, the record gets scrapped
 [Chorus]
 [Outro: E-40]
 And there you have it
 E-40 the bonzerelli
 The ballatician from the Soyo block soil
 Turf hall, been through it all
 Hard 'til we have it all (hard 'til we have it all)
 Ay look it's C-Murder and Ol'Dirty Bastard
 If you don't stay your ass out of trouble
 What's up boy? ODB
 We got the same motherfuckin' birthday
 Novermber the 12th to be exact motherfuckers
 What the fuck you drinkin'? Fortay
 Get 'em off this motherfucker.

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:08
Key
6
Tempo
99 BPM

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