Archive for the ‘Ol Dirty Bastard’ Category

Track Thirteen, Verse Two, Return To The 36 Chambers

January 17, 2008

Ninety-five niggaz is wasted
Keystone capered, and Wu kept the rap fiends basted
Foamin out the mouthpiece, heads blown like geese
Murderous police, I do shows and perform in Grease
It’s not magic, gaming is the gadget
World classic big national high attracts dear graphics
Lampin in my own zone, my physical show
Inhale bones Tony stuck, for the diamond in Rome
He’s convincin, labelled one man rap convention
The nigga that’ll gun down, eighty frenchmen
Lead vocalist, music specialist, rap arsonist
I deal with sharpness plus spark the hardest individual
I plant crimes inside vocals
My rap’s like my passport, my life’s my proof
Hit the sun roof, be out like a wanderin dream
Shuttle, and get startled off the verbal hygiene