Blah (Originoo Muddy)

Lyrics

[Intro: Samples from Hard Target (1993)] [Emil Fouchon:] Now he's cornered and outnumbered 20 to 1 He's an annoying little fucking insect and I want him stepped on hard [Emil Fouchon:] You're not angry at me, are you, Pik? [Pik van Cleef:] Not at all. I don't get angry. I'm a professional [Verse 1: Top Dog] You must Be blind and deaf to think that you can test Originoo Gunn Clappz Two to your chest (Pumm! Pumm!) May the buddha bless you where they rest you Underground, where you hear the sound (Bucktown!) Home where we roam, pack mad Chrome, so, niggas, watch your dome-piece Or you just might just catch two shots to your mother- -fucking head—batty bwoy gwan dead [Verse 2: Ruck] Time for Some action, dick-in-your-mouth satisfaction I'll pull it out, you'll "Breathe Again" like Toni Braxton I'm asking niggas, but I'm blasting niggas Yo, we past them niggas, so the Ruck just laugh at niggas My mind ills off rhyme skills and nine mills So I'll drill styles that keep the mind filled Blunts get smoked and chumps get choked when they Try to quote the notes that B-I-G Ruck wrote, so, uh Make way for the master blaster Who blast past bastards, 'cause my shit's mastered, uh [Hook: The Fab 5] Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that) The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that) The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that) The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz [Verse 3: Louieville Sluggah] Well, it's the Louieville Sluggah, motherfucker, straight out of Bucktown Word to mother, shit is real fucking with this crowd Times is hard; niggas do need a bodyguard To block the body scars; Boot Camp always stands in charge I brings the beef to the biggest of them bigger niggas All them bigger niggas scared to death of all us little niggas And Smif (Smif) to the Wessun (Wessun) got our back So, nigga, grab your gat, 'cause you could catch a head clap Slap the nigga face up and down, take the smile off your face Or catch two strays straight to your face You're punk pussy, you's a rookie I'ma play your ass like a hot day of hooky, so push me I'll stomp your face, put a boot in the place of your front tooth The truth? You should've let loose [Hook: The Fab 5] Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that) The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that) The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz [Verse 4: Rock] Aiyyo, go get Your boys, tell 'em, "Bring the noise if you want it" (Fuck them niggas!) Try and run up on this nigga that stay blunted That nigga Rock's iller than ill – I will kill At will, and fill you up from your gut to your grill (Tell 'em, Sam! Tell 'em, Sam!) Nah, man, that be my grandpops I'll slam cops for Glocks and buck shots all over your block I can't believe there really be non-believers Who wanna see the Rock give 'em Growing Pains like Mike Seaver (Nah'mean?) Mr. Inflicksta will jack ya Rolling with the Originoo Gunn Clappaz, so act up We're strapped (What!!?), Boot Camp's thick in this bitch Guard your melon, or catch a swelling from some old stiff shit [Verse 5: Starang Wondah] Niggas Get crushed into dust They could feel the wrath, plus fuck around and get that ass bust Standing in the back, you're wondered and you're frightened Fucking with the Strang, you'll face the thunder and the lightning Awesome, tossing niggas like Steve Austin Niggas get baked like beans that's straight from Boston And my Glocks make shit hot, cops get More nervous than Thursdays on The Box, and Every now and then, a sucker tries to attack Heltah Skeltah plays the front, Gunn Clappaz in the back, so Act like you want the MAC to your grill (What?) Embrace my face, it's kill or be killed [Hook: The Fab 5] Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that) The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that) The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that) The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that) The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz