Harlem World [*]

Ol' Dirty Bastard

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Ol' Dirty Bastard

Russell Tyrone Jones (November 15, 1968 – November 13, 2004) was an American rapper and occasional producer, who went by the stage name Ol' Dirty Bastard, ODB, Ason Unique, Osirus, Rainman, and Big Baby Jesus. He was one of the founding members of the Wu-Tang Clan, a rap group primarily from Staten Island, New York that first rose to mainstream prominence with their 1993 debut album Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). more »


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Shit that makes me high 
[one two, one two] 
Yo, we gonna bring it down, to Harlem World 
Bust your fucking chops 
Yo I remember when niggaz was looking at themselves 
on Farmers, motherfuckers was wearing double goose 
Motherfuckers acting all rowdy 
I'm saying though 
[one two, one two] 
The whole trip that was never shown 
I'm saying though 
See cause the knife, is the knife, of all knives 
Most people gather around 
To hear the show, that is coming through your town 
(I was playing) 
See my name [what what?] 
Is something, that you won't know 
Unless you're dowwwwwwwwn, with the Brooklyn Zoo 
Other brothers come 
But never... come back 

So basically, what the Ol motherfucking Dirty Bastard is saying 
is that if you f*ck around [one two, one two] 
You're gonna get yo' ass fucked up 
So don't f*ck around just lay down 

Verse One: Ol Dirty Bastard 
I remember (dnnah-dah)(dnh, duh, dnh, dnnah-dah) 
Not too long ago " " 
I went to a city " " 
And I saw a Wu-Tang show " " 
Now I always wanted " " 
To get, with, the band " " 

But niggaz was singing they own songs 
being in they own worlds 
So I guess I, I guess I, RARAARRRRAAHHH!!! 
The terminology, the psychology 
you still expect me to accept 
Do what I say off of TV, kay 
with the button on record and the other on 
thus I press pause for a serious cause 
to respect an intellect with this gratifying 
now that I'm ready let the music begin 
as I detect what I wrote with my 
through the time that I spent, money that I lent 
rap records went up just to bounce 
then became a new way to get paid 
they said "Rhyming on the mic is the number one" 
Then a brother get the feeling that he want to play cool 
you discombumberated diabolical fool 
Hog-flesh MC, go play in the mud 
Another 20th century, modern day 
Cannibal, humanoid, underground 
chud broke loose from the god damn 
dope-fiend addict why you walk with 
Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome 
when the MC's came, to live out their name 
roast rocking rhymes that was always 
when I elevated, and mastered the time 
You was stimulated from the high post 
You got shot cause you knew you were rot 

Verse Two: 
You're not the king of the diss 
Youse a queen of a bitch 
And like a homosexual 
Your ass always switch 
Niggaz wake up in the morning 
You're ugly-ass Gods 
Got slob around your mouth 
Blue code in your eye 
You can't smile your teeth too gritty 
Can't even move, drawers too shitty 
(you know what else) You're shaped like a thistle 
The holes in your drawers when you f*ck been there since 
Sperm germs on your worm DISINTEGRATED MAGGOTS 
Repeat your rhymes all the time like a FUCKING parrot 
Phony gold chains only rated two carats 
You tell your friends that your home is like heaven 
Living in the gutter sewer seven pipe eleven 
You wear your socks twelve days in a row 
Turn them on the other side so the dirt won't show 
Go to school, take a shit, don't wipe your ass 
Claiming on another sucka nigga in your class 
YOU want to BATTLE? 
Is it the pork on your fork, or the swine on your mind 
Make you rap against a brother with a weak-ass rhyme 
Swine on your mind, pork on your fork 
Make you imitate the brother in the state of New York 
Chain on your BRAIN, that drove you inSANE 
When you tried to CLAIM, for the talent and the FAME 
Not in the GAME, yet and still you CAME 
Suffer the PAIN, as I demolish your NAME 
Not like Betty Crocker, baking cake in the OV 
Saying this is dedicated to the one I love 
Not a swine or dove, from the heaven's up above 
When I rap, people CLAP, so the pushers they shove 
When I rhyme I get LOOSE, better than Mother Goose 
Rock the mic day and NIGHT, so you see I'm the JUICE 
Like the two-six-EIGHT, politicians demonstrate 

Now hold up hold up hold up hold up 
What y'all niggaz don't seem to hear 
Is y'all can not F*CK with me 
I saiiiiiiiiiid 
Can't f*ck with me 

I want to give a shout out to my nigga Door, Door, Door 
Buddah Monk, Buddah Monk, Buddah Monk 
Yo, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack 
For the niggaz who's here 
And the girls who's out there 
Throw your hands in the air 
Cause this one is more fly 
Fly, fly 
Flyyyyy, flyyyy 

Get your ass in the house boy, I told you 
Get your ass in the house! Get, get, in the god damn house boy! 
Last fucking time I'm gonna talk to you you hard-headed motherfucker 

Come on daddy? 
I didn't mean nothing by it 
But when it come to... Fucking with you MC's

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Written by: Russell Jones

Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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