The Stomp - Ol' Dirty Bastard

The Stomp - Ol' Dirty Bastard

Альбом
Return to the 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version
Год
2020
Язык
`Angļu`
Длительность
142960

Zemāk ir dziesmas vārdi The Stomp , izpildītājs - Ol' Dirty Bastard ar tulkojumu

Dziesmas vārdi " The Stomp "

Oriģinālteksts ar tulkojumu

The Stomp

Ol' Dirty Bastard

Sing the song, sing along with me Sing the song, sing the song with me When I’m with you baby, tell me why, tell me so

I ask you to go high, you tell me to go low

So I go low, (slurp), taste the shit

(Slurp), taste it again, I like it

(Rrr) I’m the original G-O-D

Making young ladies scream’s my specialty

When I go DUN DUN DUN DUH, girls get hype

From the funky fresh music that was stereotyped

When I kill, that ol’mad funky flow

Not sayin Ason, duck duck disco

Or disco duck, strictly hip hop

Baby baby, I can’t stop

Wu, gots ta like come on through

Soo, that’s the call for the Wu I came here to rectify

BROOKLYN ZOO, terrify

Why, niggas wanna get up and rap and rap and rap

Man, fuck that

Shit, that I make it’s the skit

I wanna see ya hands in the air, can ya 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

Gimme dat

Who’s the baddest motherfucka in the Brooklyn town

And also representer of the Wu-Tang sound

If you wanna get up and get fucked up Last nigga got up and got shot up But you's a gangsta, on the boards I'll bang ya Mess with the Wu-Tanger, I'll hang ya You'll get shanked and spanked and

alley-ooped

I admire true niggas like Dre and Snoop

Chamber number 9, verse 32

Only speaks about BROOKLYN ZOO

That a true nigga shall come through

No-one is available to be compatible

This is chamber number 9, verse 32

Is what we call The Stomp

(Stomp)

The stomp is down (Stomp)

Get down for your crown (Stomp)

Stomp (Stomp)

Brothas always playin with the microphone

When it blows up in your face, (BOOM) 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

(Grruh) Any nigga or niggerette

Get burned to the brimecell like a cigarette

Straight up and down, I don’t play around

Rhymin gets me paid madd bread by the pound

Shout out to my crew, tight as a belt y’all

Go by the name Big A, from the shelter

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