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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Back in the air |
Album: | A Son Unique | Genres: | |
Year: | 2005 |
Length: | 318 sec |
Lyrics:
[Verse 1: Ol' Dirty Bastard] We used to sleep in the staircase, smoke weed in the staircase Friday night got drunk, used to pee in the staircase Hopin' a cop might slip, I'm never known to drop the clip You copped the Fifth, nigga, I'll pop the fifth I show no mercy, dunk like a bar of Hershey Call my gun, Lil' Seymour, bitch, or Big Percy A Dapper Dan fan, who will clap a man For five grand of small bills, wrapped in a rubberband Then lay up in a fat pair of titties, my bitch is so saditty This is Dirt McGirt, ho, not P. Diddy All we got in common is the money, the only thing I want is the money You see my face on the wall of every precinct Bitches keep your pussy decent, I'm juvenile delinquent For guns that I creep with, they whisper, in secret Only bitch that peepin', is the one that I sleep with, nih-huh!
[Hook: Ol' Dirty Bastard] Alotta niggas wanna dust me off Bad bitches wanna suck me off Rockafella dropped a million here And Dirt McGirt back in the air All my gangstas, where ya at? Throw your guns up and make them clap Tell me now, muthafuckas, you strapped? And bitch betta have my money
[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah] Aiyo, the bitch better have your money and mine Cuz if she don't, we both gon' double team that bitch from behind And for them niggas outside screamin' that 'Somebody gotta die' shit, same dudes on the cop's dick This is Tone, y'all niggas be frontin' And most of y'all niggas don't got no guns Borrowed your man's shit, how's that for a bum? Dum-dums emptied out of pun son, so see man, see Ach' run See spots over my Reebok's, cuz he got done Cheap shots fell out his weak Glock and he got stung My cheap gun is a gangsta's protein Treat bitches with the utmost respect, like get 'em wetted Tellin' to, drink the milk, boo, don't even wet it This is Starky, I got a foot fetish, loot fetish With the dust-head men, we got good credit
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Ol' Dirty Bastard] Notorious Glock buster, cap peelin', block hustler Who slap hoes, who lack feelings Black building, crack dealing, black villain Had a taste for blood spillin', love stealin' Any thing that twinkle bright to my eye sight Many nights I used to stay up, at the twilight And wonder to myself, if's there's a Heaven or Hell Been alone in these streets, since eleven or twelve On my own, I run buckwild in the West A knucklehead nigga, used to sleep in my vest Had no home, my Moms used to show me no lovin' Burn the crib down, try'nna dry my shirt with the oven Now I'm exiled, destined for penal Hyperactive off the cocaine, got me senile Back on the block, knowledge to build, knowledge to kill Intent to put a dent in your grill with the steel
[Hook]
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