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(Stop the car... |
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Brooklyn |
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Do somethin to make me feel better |
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- I'ma do somethin to make you feel great) |
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It's like |
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Bon Appetit y'all |
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[VERSE 1: O.C.] |
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Commonly known as O.C. to some of y'all |
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My peoples call me Mush or Mush |
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Say it with different twang, it means the same, nigga |
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The love of her life to your wife is Von Zipper |
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Shoot darts like cupid, leave em stuck on stupid |
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How I manoeuvre, leavin em sayin oohs and aahs |
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Your dream boat-type of man, I'm a god |
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A straight sin to a love-struck sucker involved |
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My niggas gimme pound, envious niggas they just nod |
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(I see everything) to observe is not the word |
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My style is reserved, a-ddress me as Sir Fly |
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Gone is the humble kid, I'm gunnin for number one and shit |
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Brooklyn born and bred, reppin my residence |
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I can't live with that, I'm reppin NY |
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The rotten apple is a place where the strong reside |
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Some of the illest have died, puttin them feelings aside |
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But on the live, yo, never seen my cousin Chuck [Name] |
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Words like cum like a bird suckin me off |
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She tellin me let her know at the moment I blow |
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I got sin in my veins, hope I don't burn up in flames |
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They say tigers nevfer change they stripes, whoever said it was right |
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And I say love is life with larceny |
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Chicken pieces wanna grease up with the darker me |
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Or maybe possibly rotatin constantly |
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You mufuckas don't want no type of parts of me |
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It's Mush |
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[CHORUS] |
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I lay me down to sleep |
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And I pray to the Lord my soul to keep |
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Rubbin on my rosary beeds |
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That if there shouldn't be a dawn |
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That I rise and yawn |
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Then so be it |
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This is to my niggas, if I should die |
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Just make sure my wake gimme a 21 gun salute |
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Cock, aim and shoot |
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[gunshots] |
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[VERSE 2: O.C.] |
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Yo, echoin shots in your hallways |
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This is for gangsta niggas fittin the MO |
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I'm reckon that my medicine will leave you stimmo |
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Just feel low, step in my world, there's nothin to fear |
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Who claimin they live, this is live right here |
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Walkin with a slew foot and a bop |
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Speak sideways when I talk |
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Even when I'm not high my eyes are small |
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Not very short, yet I'm not so tall |
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But I got a big heart, big hands and some big-ass balls |
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I spray walls like a dog, markin territories off |
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Everytime I touch down in a city of yours |
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I mix and mingle with my boys, shootin winks at the broads |
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Shootin drinks to the players, keepin in peace is all |
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With the fine rides with Wildlife niggas inside |
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Ahmed, [Name], Show, Bless, Flow, 'Nesse, Dre, Buck and PA |
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My nigga [Name], the women catch a glimpse |
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As they focus they vision on these players and pimps |
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Who keep it gully? (That nigga Mush) |
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Who play it cool like Arthur Fonzarelli |
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Dippin through my hood with no kind of worries |
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On the block drinkin malt liquors and hard liquor |
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Puffin a spliff while the cars ride by pumpin Jigga |
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I'm from B-r-(double o)-k-l-y-n |
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And if I wasn't, nigga, then why would I say I am? |
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I'm from the (slums) with the (bums) and the (rats) and the (guns) |
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Where the drugs get slung, dispose condoms with cum - one |
