"OMG" lyrics
Whoa baby, hold on, you gotta sit back
Break you off a piece like a Kit Kat
You know I'm the one they say that did that
Not Ronald McDonald, the Big Mac with the big strap
Out for big thangs, like J Dilla, big facts
No more verses on the low, the IRS I'm chargin' big tax
Still spittin' wicked shit over sick tracks
Squeeze the trigger on a 12 gauge, brace for the kickback
Your face look broke; you need to fix that
Your rhymes don't work on that beat
Before you crawl, you gotta walk
Rappers mumblin' but they should talk
I was raised in Detroit, but born in New York and I'm still a city slicker
I draw down quicker than a bro at the store, pourin' up brown liquor
So, I change with the times, nothing ever stays the same
I don't got the same gun or the same aim
I keep the ninety-nine bussin' like the twin flame
I gotta walk him down we ain't on the same thang
No, I'm not a slave, so, I don't rock chains
I'm the unholy Coon ta Ken Tay ain't my name
I'm insane like the wicked clowns, screamin' pony down
You ain't know me back then you don't know me right now
Never late, bullets penetrate, when they finna hate
Gettin' pape, I spent thirty years on a dinner date
Wait! Wait! Don't instigate, it could escalate
Up the burner on you, these bullets got release dates
On the East side, we slide, throwin' up the peace sign
I wear a mask 'cause if they see my face they be like
Esham's dope hoe, fuck the popo
Rap game in the choke hold, screaming oh no
He in the figure four, leg lock, head shot, dead heat red hot
Up in Flint with the Dayton Family pushin' bedrocks
I got the hot comb, straighten out your dreadlocks
You was havin' motion, now you at a dead stop
Break you off a piece like a Kit Kat
You know I'm the one they say that did that
Not Ronald McDonald, the Big Mac with the big strap
Out for big thangs, like J Dilla, big facts
No more verses on the low, the IRS I'm chargin' big tax
Still spittin' wicked shit over sick tracks
Squeeze the trigger on a 12 gauge, brace for the kickback
Your face look broke; you need to fix that
Your rhymes don't work on that beat
Before you crawl, you gotta walk
Rappers mumblin' but they should talk
I was raised in Detroit, but born in New York and I'm still a city slicker
I draw down quicker than a bro at the store, pourin' up brown liquor
So, I change with the times, nothing ever stays the same
I don't got the same gun or the same aim
I keep the ninety-nine bussin' like the twin flame
I gotta walk him down we ain't on the same thang
No, I'm not a slave, so, I don't rock chains
I'm the unholy Coon ta Ken Tay ain't my name
I'm insane like the wicked clowns, screamin' pony down
You ain't know me back then you don't know me right now
Never late, bullets penetrate, when they finna hate
Gettin' pape, I spent thirty years on a dinner date
Wait! Wait! Don't instigate, it could escalate
Up the burner on you, these bullets got release dates
On the East side, we slide, throwin' up the peace sign
I wear a mask 'cause if they see my face they be like
Esham's dope hoe, fuck the popo
Rap game in the choke hold, screaming oh no
He in the figure four, leg lock, head shot, dead heat red hot
Up in Flint with the Dayton Family pushin' bedrocks
I got the hot comb, straighten out your dreadlocks
You was havin' motion, now you at a dead stop
