roc-a-fella

Description

Oloi se agapamee [Ol' Dirty Bastard] Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane No it's Dirt McGirt, ain't a damn thing changed Just put spinners on a brand new Range When I walk up in the party everything seem strange Oooh, must be that Roc-A-Fella chain I mixed it up, with that Wu-Tang slang That college girl over there, she give good brain When I pull out my gun, it goes chitty bang bang I love 'em fat bitches cuz they titty hang hang When I'm trying to get some food stamps, to buy some champagne When you in the senior cars, gonna make you switch lanes Blame it on the muthafucking game [Chorus 2X] [Ol' Dirty Bastard] Now, come, get some, you little bum I'm Dirt McGirt, still living in the slums Yeah, that's where I'm from And I got enough liquor, you can all get some The Swizz Beatz drum, bang through your speaker I don't want no bud, cuz that ain't no good reefer Forget from the Dirt, though, I'm the grim reaper And I might hit it once and pass to my man Peter Adios see ya, would hate to be ya Your man talk shit, I'mma put him in the sleeper So get down, get down, like James Brown Roc-A-Fella money got me feeling lot better now [Chorus 2X] [Ol' Dirty Bastard] Oooh, love it when you shake it to the ground You serve in town, ODB comes around Blaow, listen to my drunken style Got enough Chambers, I can hit it going wild Rims on my truck is bigger than a cow Chpaow! Jewelry cost more than your house If you cooking in your kitchen, get the fuck out Make them scream and shout "McGirt, get in the house" Dude gonna air it, I'm barricade, pull it out If I ain't got my gun, I hit you with the Guinness Stoute I'm back, buzzed, hit you with a different route Peace Mariah, for getting a nigga the fuck out