Lyrics:
la haine, j'ai taché mon Kenzo (j'ai taché mon Kenzo)
En haut, c'est le binks, la voisine d'en bas va péter les plombs
C'est avec mes O.G tard la
This is a O.G cut
Professor
Oui oui, eh
C'est quoi c'est le net qui vous fait perdre la tête ou quoi? (La street)
C'est le biff et les placements
que me lanzan las esquivan ellos
Acá la vida es para disfrutar
Seguir los códigos salirle a hustlear
Tu un O.G. de plástico a quien vas a engañar
the rock, it's a block party
Pop shit, get the Glock, it's a knock party
I turn it up, my beat on the brain
I'm swinging be in that lane
The D.O.G
santi
Prego per tutti i santi
Loser im king
Les pierde el bling bling
Si hablan de mi... haré que lo hagan en latín
O.G para de soltar bullshit
with a pasta stain
Got soldiers like the S1Ws
Shotgun bust at you
Bird shots in your bubble goose
These rappers say they ill, which one?
I'm O.G. Ralph
Celo, você é foda
É o G!
Ma chainz on my neck, 'tá gelado, frozen
100 na minha bag e Ralph Lauren
Amém 'to mais leve e tenho Loui'
Essa mina
n’importe quoi!
Vous connaissez l’ordre ALPHABETIQUE !
Après le E on a fait le G, puis le O et le T, et on n’a même pas ffffait le FFFF
alors maintenant
so zum O.G
Mansa Musa, Gottes Sohn und Opus Dei
Kriege lösten meinen Artikel auf
Magazine löschten mein Kapitel aus
Sierra Leone, wilde Nigga
cash, je ne veux pas de leur taf d'ouvrier
Ghetto renégat, O.G. vient des classes oubliées
Je ne pense qu'au cash, je ne pense qu'à tout plier
Un
gros?
Le bras long d'une armoire à glace
Te suspend par le balcon, Vanilla Ice
P.I.M.P au volant de la Cadillac
Frénésie d'un O.G, crise cardiaque
Au
and the r-o-c uh oh
O-g, big homie
The one and only
Stick boney but the pockets are fat like tony
Soprano the roc handle
Like van exel
I shake phonies man, you
{*repeat "me"*}
[Verse Two: DMC]
I be the microphone talker, the big street walker
Known to rock a rhyme, a bonafide New Yorker
O.G. godfather, like
run with O.G.C.'s n shit
We'll FUCK your ass up too word up
Bummy Jab Mr. Perfect equals Perfect Jab
Word is bond
This whole shit's played
the O-
G Style in effect and I'm housin
I'm on point while them suckers be loungin
Did a little show, now you think you're a star
But I know you're not
[Verse 1]
This be for the hard-core O.G. real funk fans
The ones that pumpin' up the party
Jump and shake your hands
And let your joint blaze
thing
It's just a saying that's said by the one who said it with game
From the D to the a-n-g-e-are-o-you-s Dame
Now I spelled it again but in a different
the a day I lay the blaze
I was stuck in evil ways
In amaze
At the power that it could devour
Strip that O.G. from his reputation
In the late night hour
Show
don't roll with players cause we some O.G.'s
We flip two turntables man fuck them CD's
I don't sport ice and I won't thread designers
Dickies to my
6-feet tall cat
Talkin bout "where them broads at?"
You got to love that
separate the weak hearts from the thug cats
O.G.'s from the rugrats
Chill, Stak,
and the real O.G.s
For the love of my Cs, I'm a let it be known
Hip hop thugsta, clique tight with the bones
And a war been on since the first song
l'corner, très vite, devenu homme d'affaires
Que dans celle d'un vieil O.G, gangster tout droit sorti d'un Scorsese
Assis sur sa longue chaise
Impatient
position
I'm the creator of everything you perceive as wisdom
I build with O.G. God-body peep the vision
Ramirez over Whitaker that's just a weak decision
sabe bem o seu futuro
Coração mole , mas o meu punho e duro
Meto ethanol, no molotov e expludo
Lanço a shit, e fico nem fugo
O.G desde q eu sai do utero
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