Lyrics:
gangster
O.G. original gangster
O.G. original gangster
So step to me If you think
That you're ready to
Got on your bullet proof?
Well mine's going
I ain't never had shit
Not a pot to piss, window to throw it out of
Sherm got me high get your ass in the shower
Took one pull, shit told her it
like a mix plate
More vibes in me then your mixtape (savage)
Sad boy and a mad boy
If I'm dying they be glad boy!
Little guy with big problems
East Coast
a lot of you's, there's only one me
They are not confused by the wannabe
Original, original, I'm the prototype
Original, original, he the copy right
on a hookah got me feeling like a hippie, trippy
Gone for a minute and you missed me
Now Fergie back with a bag full of tricksies, what
Life's a movie, let
on a hookah got me feeling like a hippie, trippy
Gone for a minute and you missed me
Now Fergie back with a bag full of tricksies, what
Life's a movie, let
around
It's the sound of the B-E-P family
Got a poet named Life and a sister (Fergie)
And the blood of Abraham
So let's get ready for the jam
Jumping
Timepiece
Full of Rockies
Told her top me
Do it Asap
Fergie on the dutchies
If she want me
Then she got me
Told me slide by pull up to her auntie's
(Bucktown) home of the original gun-clappers
Got five emcee that wanna contest we
Got your nooses ready, hangin' over the trees
Bring on your sounds
(Bucktown) home of the original gun-clappers
Got five emcee that wanna contest we
Got your nooses ready, hangin' over the trees
Bring on your sounds
in the mix baby talking bout some cake
And she fucked me good so I got a let her stay
But the fam is eating first
So go ahead and grab a plate
Brother
(Bucktown) home of the original gun-clappers
Got five emcee that wanna contest we
Got your nooses ready, hangin' over the trees
Bring on your sounds
got me moving like a grandpa
Felling like I'm Fergie when I'm flying I be first class
Just landed in Orlando where the homies and the percs at
What you
What you got, what you got, what you got, what you got
I'm lookin' around
Tryin' to find me one original thing
Cause I've been walkin' so long
by far in ya life
I got heroin by the balloons, kabooms and mushrooms
And my 38. specialist puttin' banker's in they tomb's
I'm one, shot, killed,
I, I got styles upon styles of styles
Piles and miles of ‘em to make you smile
I got styles upon styles of styles
C-come, come, come
Come original
I know you see me now right now
I know you see me now right now
Right now, right now, right now
I know you see me now right now
I got my suit
bagels
Have them like Christians over they head smoking halo
Call me Plato, I philosoph-y
By the brick, then divided it up amongst my guys
Then I
tony smokin' for me (get 'em, tone)
Not only got the illest bars
We got the dopest stories (we got the stories, yeah, look)
I went from playin' with
Kenny Parker on the
mix!
[Special K]
Yes yes I'm Special K
On New York's Two show on WBDP
This is the brand new one by KRS-One
reaction
You cannot mix with me
Get with me
You can't chill with me individually
You can not know the real me cuz you gon look at me differently
It's
world
And that's for sure
In the mix, we gonna get by
On our own, side by side
Love's all we need to be free
I got you, you got me
Yay us, in
like that
I'm from the jungle, brother, and I got it like that
Yo, my life got me running through a maze like a white rat
I need a shot at ramming
like that
I'm from the jungle, brother, and I got it like that
Yo, my life got me running through a maze like a white rat
I need a shot at ramming
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