Oooh.
Album: Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump
Release Date: 8/8/00
Label: Tommy Boy
Explicit version of "Oooh." lyrics
Party people
Get your ass up and let's get ill
We more than rough
And when it comes to rhymes
(Brick city)
Yo
I spent too much time
Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk
Never fetchin' for crime
Yo
Puffin' Smokey the bear
Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps
They on stare
While we rockin' it
(Rock in it)
Like the little ball inside the spray can
Providing three coats
For both child
God bless the God
It go
Yo
It went
It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt
Got your chin touched by my fam
Who thought you brought harm
I'm iced out like a glass of tea
Better yet
Y'all just rookies to me
Slidin' up and down the court
But I don't think you can D
Why try? Maseo be gettin' high
Since Luke was Luke Skywalk
Man
All over your game like them shorties who claim
That Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug
A life filled with (unverified) that's what thugs love
Snatch you fast
While it muffles your voice
Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint
'Cause if you don't
We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss
Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss
Most crews are post current while we're forever
Direct beats that's contagious
Graduated from the you and I versity
Of hard hitters
I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine
And get
Yo
Then go
Yo
Go
Yo and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin' me down
Go
Yo
I had plans to buy more land
Bust kernels on heat
Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile
Rockwilder the beat
Big moneys make the big decisions
Keep hip hop alive
Back to the second half of the feature flick
Dick stacks and f*** rap
I had a name for makin' paper since paper mache
Now
While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker
You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor
Went from God to God damn
Damn God
Should incorporate it
Rap cats talk with no will in it
Soundin' like they virtual
Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed
(Shh
They did a job
Took all my goodies out from under the tree
Except the CD's
Of shiny suit rappers and flossin' M C's
Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees
Man
You need to not get nappy with me
Or else we gon' relax your mind
Let your conscious be free
Yo
Go
To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man
Go
Yo
Brick city
Yo
Oooh
© DAISY AGE MUSIC
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