[Intro]
All the niggas in the party, well, party along with me
Sing the song, sing the song with me
[Verse 1]
La-la-la-lady, tell me why, tell me so
I ask you to go high, you tell me to go low
So I go low, taste the shit
Taste it again, I like it
I'm the original G-O-D
Making young ladies scream's my specialty
When I go, "Dun-dun-dun-dun," girls get hype
From the funky fresh music that was stereotyped
When I kill, that old mad funky flow
Not sayin Ason, duck-duck disco
Or disco duck, strictly hip-hop
Baby, baby, I can't stop
Wu gots like come on through
Soo, that's the call for the Wu
I came here to rectify
Brooklyn Zu terrify
And why, niggas wanna get up and rap and rap and rap?
Man, fuck that
Hits that I make is the shit
I wanna see you up in the air, can you dig it?
Let's sing the song
Come on, party people, all in together now, sing along
Have you ever, ever, ever in your long legged life
Had a bald-headed bitch for your bald-headed wife?
[Interlude]
Give me that
[Verse 2]
Who's the baddest motherfucka in the Brooklyn town
And also representer of the Wu-Tang sound?
If you wanna jump up and get fucked up
Last nigga got up and got shot up
But you's a gangster, on the ball-strap hanger
Fuck with the Wu-Tanger, I'll bang you
You'll get shanked and spanked and alley-ooped
I admire true niggas like Dre and Snoop
Chamber number nine, verse thirty-two
Only speaks about Brooklyn Zu
That a true nigga shall come through
No one is available to be compatible
[Interlude]
Yo, this chamber number nine, verse thirty-two is what we call the stomp
Stomp (The stomp is down)
Stomp (Get down for your crown, Brooklyn shit, ho)
Stomp (Keep a— down for his crown)
Stomp
Stomp (Stomp, go, go)
Stomp
[Verse 3]
Brothers always playin' with the microphone
When it blows up in your face, you leave it alone
You couldn't touch, this style is too much
It's the rhymer, I don't give a crippled crab crutch
About any nigga or niggerette
Get burned to the ground, feel like a cigarette
Straight up and down, I get dirty to the ground
Rhymin' get me paid mad bread by the pound
Shoutout to my crew, tight as a belt, y'all
Go by the name Big A from the shelter
READ MORE ABOUT OL' DIRTY BASTARD
