Ol' Dirty Bastard - Deadly Rungz lyrics

[Verse 1: Ol' Dirty ba*tard] Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yam, shimmy yay Gimme the mic so I can take it away Off on a natural charge, bon-voyage Yeah from the home of the Dodger Brooklyn squad Wu-Tang k**er bees on a swarm Rain on your college-a** disco dorm For you to even touch my sk** You gotta put the one k**er bee and he ain't gonna k** Now chop that down, pa** it all around Lyrics get hard quick cement to the ground For any emcee in any fifty-two states I get psycho k**er, Norman Bates My producer slam my flow is like bam Jump on stage ah then I dip down [Hook] "I drop lyrics off and on like a light switch" (x4) [Verse 2: RZA] Yo, Check the mic line for wire-taps We're under attack, man your stations, take aim, proceed Fire back, all hands on deck: cadet, vets, insert ca**ettes Tracks snap heads like berets; catch web-sites like internet Chief, I detected vehicles approaching from the East Pa** the infrared binoculars, captain, so I can see Sound the alarm; call for the suicidal-kamikaze ninjas with the bombs Flashes of neon, all we saw was flying arms Anytime I come by, alumni cut short their air supply Send 'em back like George McFly I, be holdin' this; travel ground like a motorist Poisonous gas released from my track, its odorless and tasteless Like Ghost is face-less Which allowed the God to break backs, and beat a hundred cases MCs heads weave like trees, in a breeze to rhymes like these Underwater flow strike like torpedoes You get plugged more than Del Rio; played short like De Vito Split the f** up like Mike-Jack and Tito Sword cuts sharper than Concorde needles Call my second private, tell 'em write this important message to Cypress I heard Yacub's a**istant on the island was Dr. Titus And they just released a new deadly virus To infiltrate the Western States It's time to pump out more rap tapes And use the Wu-Tang symbol to communicate RZA, over and out... [Hook] [Verse 3: The Notorious B.I.G.] Relax and take notes While I take tokes of the marijuana smoke Throw you in a choke; gun smoke, gun smoke Biggie Smalls for mayor The rap slayer, the hooker layer Motherf**er, say your prayers! "Hail Mary, full of grace," smack the b**h in the face Take her Gucci bag and the North Face off her back Jab her if she act, funny with the money Oh, you got me mistaken, honey I don't wanna rape ya, I just want the paper The Visa, kapeesha? I'm out like The Vapors Who's the one you call Mr. Macho? The head honcho, swift fist, like Camacho I got so much style I should be down with the Stylistics "Make up to break up" n***as need to wake up Smell the Indonesia, beat you to a seizure Then f** your moms, hit the skins to amnesia She don't remember sh**, just the two hits Her hittin' the floor and me hittin' the clit s**ing on the tits, had the hooker beggin' for the dick And your moms ain't ugly, love, my dick got rocked quick I guess I was a combination Of House of Pain and Bobby Brown I was humpin' around and jumpin' around Jacked her, then I asked her, "Who's the man?" She said, "B-I-G," then I'd bust in her E-Y-E [Hook] [Verse 4: Nas] I sip the Dom P, watchin' Gandhi 'til I'm charged Then writin' in my book of rhymes, all the words past the margin Behold the mic I'm throbbin', mechanical movement Understandable smooth sh** that murderers move with The thief's theme; play me at night, they won't act right The fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crack pipe The mind activation, react like I'm facin' Time like Pappy Mason, with pens I'm embracin' Wipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phlegm on the streets Suede Timbs on my feet makes my cipher complete Whether cruisin' in a Six cab or Montero Jeep I can't call it; the beats make me fallin' asleep I keep fallin', but never fallin' six feet deep