Oh My Lord
Junior M.A.F.I.A."Oh My Lord" เป็นเพลงของ Junior M.A.F.I.A., 1995, Pop ความยาว 3:31, 89 lines / 598 words
เนื้อเพลง
0:10Why niggaz wanna clock me?
0:11Like that dance called the chachi
0:13Don't they know I break
0:14Motherf**kers into parts like Rocky
0:16Part I, part II, part III, niggaz can't f**k with me
0:19My style's knock-kneed plum crazy what?
0:21Who's that wild a** motherf**ker catchin wreck
0:24Stickin Jamaicans for sound sets outside discoteques
0:26It's Klep the death specialist,
0:28Stallone and Stone sh*t
0:29Stayin high representin for the nine-quint
0:31Ras bad guy, burns the house down like Left Eye
0:34Why try mimic?
0:35MC's get broke like speed limits uhh
0:37Niggaz can't f**k with my metaphore
0:39Canin MC's like they in Singapore,
0:41Klep been through more wards
0:43Than Humphrey Shore, put together catchin leathers
0:45On the regular, got that net,
0:46Push me round and Dread stressin a
0:48Trick hoe, what the Dread won't know won't hurt
0:50Robbin his workers for they work;
0:52Now, WHOSE TURF IS THIS?
0:54It's Klep's, the clothes wreckers'
0:56Life interceptor, p**sy collector
0:58Got your b**ch on my dick and I ain't even stressin her
1:01Check enough sex in her, my styles are regular
1:03Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique moves in like the senator
1:07Niggas say Oh my lord!
1:09Throw gats to Guiliani
1:11Flows tighter than b**ches punani, try me, die G
1:14Dangerous, since my daddy bust me out
1:17The tip of his dick,
1:18Biggie Smalls with the wickedest sh*t
1:20Spit clips, niggaz split like bananas
1:22Flavour like Tropicana; orange, mango, peach
1:25I strangle each - negro for they dough
1:28Niggaz get to bendin, got two cases, one pendin
1:30560 V-12 engine, women spinnin
1:33In 9-2-9 Mazda's, Tammy and Natasha
1:36The menage-a-trois around my waist
1:38Like Ill and Al Skratch smokin 50 sacks in the back of Ac's
1:42Windows cracked, so sit back relax
1:43Yo Vec, crush the hash, the Beretta's in the stash
1:46Niggas say Oh my lord!
1:48Niggas say Oh my lord!
1:51Niggas say Oh my lord!
1:54Niggas say Oh my lord!
1:56What you doin with yourself?
1:58Stone heart's the way to wealth
2:00Indecisive thoughts make sentences get dealt
2:02Money makes the world go round, robbin sh*t
2:05F**k a job sh*t, niggaz want cribs, bricks and spliffs
2:08All-wheel automobiles, traction control
2:10For clay roads, rollin with dough, kickin game
2:13On the cel with b**ches on hold, that's how we roll uhh
2:16Rhymes got tight as hell so to the bank I stroll uhh
2:18Money on my mind, open lips from my eyes
2:21Reveal pupils shaped like dollar signs
2:23The world is mine!
2:24Niggaz frontin, feelin twelve gauge pellets
2:27BIG is repellant, to all that he say, she say
2:29We play, Russian roulette, f**k the threat
2:32Your whole crew's vagina, you and your co-signer
2:34Ni**a, we rollin in eight and a halfs, TV's in the dash
2:38Three G's in the stash, see we love the cash
2:41No coke, then get some more
2:43Niggas say Oh my lord!
2:46Niggaz don't know bout my game,
2:47They don't know
2:48How complex it is, baggin b**ches in GS 300 Lexuses
2:51And the sex is for summer sports
2:53Passports for drug transports to remote resorts
2:56B**ches with Donna Karan Catwoman suits,
2:59Matchin figure boots
2:59Haircut cute, on tops and garters like prostitutes
3:02My lyrics explicit
3:03Got b**ches bringin they own condoms on the first visit
3:06If Biggie bring big bowls of beef
3:09Backin b**ch niggaz down,
3:10Burners bring bundles of belief
3:12Common thief, slash drug chief, syndicated
3:14Went from 10 K, to 24 K and motherf**kers hate it
3:18J.M. sedated, quarantined uhh
3:20BIG for President, buckin shots past the spleen
3:239 millimeter dream, Mac 11 nightmares
3:25Electric chairs, which MC's do you fear?
3:28Big Poppa, Junior M.A.F.I.A., nuff said
3:31Niggaz disrespect just are dead
Why niggaz wanna clock me? Like that dance called the chachi Don't they know I break Motherf**kers into parts like Rocky Part I, part II, part III, niggaz can't f**k with me My style's knock-kneed plum crazy what? Who's that wild a** motherf**ker catchin wreck Stickin Jamaicans for sound sets outside discoteques It's Klep the death specialist, Stallone and Stone sh*t Stayin high representin for the nine-quint Ras bad guy, burns the house down like Left Eye Why try mimic? MC's get broke like speed limits uhh Niggaz can't f**k with my metaphore Canin MC's like they in Singapore, Klep been through more wards Than Humphrey Shore, put together catchin leathers On the regular, got that net, Push me round and Dread stressin a Trick hoe, what the Dread won't know won't hurt Robbin his workers for they work; Now, WHOSE TURF IS THIS? It's Klep's, the clothes wreckers' Life interceptor, p**sy collector Got your b**ch on my dick and I ain't even stressin her Check enough sex in her, my styles are regular Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique moves in like the senator Niggas say Oh my lord! Throw gats to Guiliani Flows tighter than b**ches punani, try me, die G Dangerous, since my daddy bust me out The tip of his dick, Biggie Smalls with the wickedest sh*t Spit clips, niggaz split like bananas Flavour like Tropicana; orange, mango, peach I strangle each - negro for they dough Niggaz get to bendin, got two cases, one pendin 560 V-12 engine, women spinnin In 9-2-9 Mazda's, Tammy and Natasha The menage-a-trois around my waist Like Ill and Al Skratch smokin 50 sacks in the back of Ac's Windows cracked, so sit back relax Yo Vec, crush the hash, the Beretta's in the stash Niggas say Oh my lord! Niggas say Oh my lord! Niggas say Oh my lord! Niggas say Oh my lord! What you doin with yourself? Stone heart's the way to wealth Indecisive thoughts make sentences get dealt Money makes the world go round, robbin sh*t F**k a job sh*t, niggaz want cribs, bricks and spliffs All-wheel automobiles, traction control For clay roads, rollin with dough, kickin game On the cel with b**ches on hold, that's how we roll uhh Rhymes got tight as hell so to the bank I stroll uhh Money on my mind, open lips from my eyes Reveal pupils shaped like dollar signs The world is mine! Niggaz frontin, feelin twelve gauge pellets BIG is repellant, to all that he say, she say We play, Russian roulette, f**k the threat Your whole crew's vagina, you and your co-signer Ni**a, we rollin in eight and a halfs, TV's in the dash Three G's in the stash, see we love the cash No coke, then get some more Niggas say Oh my lord! Niggaz don't know bout my game, They don't know How complex it is, baggin b**ches in GS 300 Lexuses And the sex is for summer sports Passports for drug transports to remote resorts B**ches with Donna Karan Catwoman suits, Matchin figure boots Haircut cute, on tops and garters like prostitutes My lyrics explicit Got b**ches bringin they own condoms on the first visit If Biggie bring big bowls of beef Backin b**ch niggaz down, Burners bring bundles of belief Common thief, slash drug chief, syndicated Went from 10 K, to 24 K and motherf**kers hate it J.M. sedated, quarantined uhh BIG for President, buckin shots past the spleen 9 millimeter dream, Mac 11 nightmares Electric chairs, which MC's do you fear? Big Poppa, Junior M.A.F.I.A., nuff said Niggaz disrespect just are dead
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