| 作曲 : Walt Dewgarde/Jack McNair/B. Powell/D. Yates | |
| [Verse 1: Louieville Sluggah] | |
| Smack, and when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it’s the quiet riot storming in the center | |
| (No doubt) Do it like this and like that | |
| Put the change in the streets from fists to gats | |
| Feeling loosey goosey off the liquor, can’t shut these lips up | |
| Never slip up, but on point just like a stick-up | |
| I’ll shoot my gift to your gut like a jail jux | |
| And run my line up your spine like a blind book | |
| Shook crooked booked | |
| Ain’t no time for joking, provoke this like gun smoke | |
| Some nice and hoping, soaked in acid | |
| Eating, can be that bastard, Eleven thirty fire, sound burn asses to ashes | |
| [Verse 2: Top Dog (Starang Wondah)] | |
| Rips and tears—when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it’s the Big Kahuna next on your menu | |
| (Lord have mercy) Do it like this and that | |
| Making changes on the streets from fists to gats, hah | |
| I race to the new unknown | |
| No one is home, so I relax my chrome | |
| Temporarily until I come face-to-face with these | |
| Fake-ass slackers who try to bury we | |
| You better be mentally, physically fit | |
| ‘Cause O.G.C. comes equipped for your lip | |
| No flapping, having heart attacks when we’re coming through | |
| Your back door, and you still asking for more | |
| Of Top Dog, but you don’t really want no more | |
| They all fall, and they all spoiled | |
| [Verse 3: Starang Wondah] | |
| (Booyah!) And when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it’s the beast from the East, don’t enter | |
| (No doubt) Do it up like this and that | |
| Make the change in the streets, like, from fists to gats | |
| Niggas don’t be knowing what be going | |
| On when I be flowing wilder than Samoans | |
| Bitches get dissed because they Miss like Jones | |
| When it’s my turn to throw, you get hit with stones | |
| Now I guess your whole crew’s under pressure | |
| Don’t mess around with the sarge, man, I’m Large like Professor | |
| Spots blown—run for cover, it’s just another | |
| Boot Camp bomb, sound the alarm, I’m with Sluggah | |
| [Hook: Starang Wondah] | |
| (Everything is real) AKA the nature | |
| (Everything is real) What we call it? Nature | |
| (Everything is real) AKA the nature | |
| (Everything is real) O.G.C. call it nature | |
| [Verse 4: Louieville Sluggah] | |
| When I ran around town, doing things I did | |
| Bucking shots at them criminal kids | |
| Many tried to infiltrate through my mind state | |
| But my mate, the lye break kept my ****ing mind straight | |
| Bitches get put up, and punks shot down | |
| Frowns on their faces when them niggas draw the trey pounds | |
| Clowns front, act like they don’t know | |
| But O.G.C. agrees that that’s a no-no | |
| Crying, whining like that Lion | |
| Far from bows, so hop your ass on that ****ing Yellow Road | |
| Sewn up from the toes up, emcees get no leeway | |
| (O.G.C.’ll split ya three-ways) | |
| [Verse 5: Top Dog] | |
| From the parts unknown, I have sparked and blown any punk | |
| Who wan' test, or any marked with the chrome | |
| It is known that my style increases | |
| Like the deficit, you’re best to get out of my face, I’m on some next shit | |
| Yes, it gets hectic like Chill Rob, Ill squad | |
| Who pull the cards on retards | |
| We scar (Who?) anybody, and make niggas wanna party | |
| So don’t act rowdy ‘cause, in this room it’s mad cloudy | |
| Now we walk around with the Glock and the pound, G | |
| [Verse 6: Starang Wondah] | |
| And you knows that there’s no stopping Fab 5, Ruck and Rocking | |
| Originoo Gunns make other crews run like stockings | |
| Hype when the mic’s inside my control | |
| Tighten up my grip so I won’t fold | |
| Wetting niggas, I’ll play too much, I’ll leave ‘em damp | |
| I’m the champ (Starang) you know from the Boot Camp | |
| The illest, obsolete fleet from PJ’s | |
| Gunn Clappa Numba One (Number one DJs) | |
| From the beginning, niggas knew they wasn’t winning | |
| Ninety-now is the ending of them niggas that’s pretending | |
| [Hook: Louieville Sluggah, Top Dog, and Starang Wondah] | |
| When you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it’s the Originoo Gunn Clappaz—don’t enter | |
| No doubt, do it like this and like that | |
| Put your change in the streets from fists to gats | |
| Rips and tears—when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it’s the Big Kahuna next on your menu | |
| (Lord have mercy) Do it like this and that | |
| Making changes on the streets from fists to gats, hah | |
| Bitch, please, and when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it’s that nigga Starang, don’t enter | |
| (No doubt) Do it up like this and that | |
| Wondering where all my niggas from Brooklyn at |
| zuo qu : Walt Dewgarde Jack McNair B. Powell D. Yates | |
| Verse 1: Louieville Sluggah | |
| Smack, and when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the quiet riot storming in the center | |
| No doubt Do it like this and like that | |
| Put the change in the streets from fists to gats | |
| Feeling loosey goosey off the liquor, can' t shut these lips up | |
| Never slip up, but on point just like a stick-up | |
| I' ll shoot my gift to your gut like a jail jux | |
| And run my line up your spine like a blind book | |
| Shook crooked booked | |
| Ain' t no time for joking, provoke this like gun smoke | |
| Some nice and hoping, soaked in acid | |
| Eating, can be that bastard, Eleven thirty fire, sound burn asses to ashes | |
| Verse 2: Top Dog Starang Wondah | |
| Rips and tears when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the Big Kahuna next on your menu | |
| Lord have mercy Do it like this and that | |
| Making changes on the streets from fists to gats, hah | |
| I race to the new unknown | |
| No one is home, so I relax my chrome | |
| Temporarily until I come face-to-face with these | |
| Fake-ass slackers who try to bury we | |
| You better be mentally, physically fit | |
| ' Cause O. G. C. comes equipped for your lip | |
| No flapping, having heart attacks when we' re coming through | |
| Your back door, and you still asking for more | |
| Of Top Dog, but you don' t really want no more | |
| They all fall, and they all spoiled | |
| Verse 3: Starang Wondah | |
| Booyah! And when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the beast from the East, don' t enter | |
| No doubt Do it up like this and that | |
| Make the change in the streets, like, from fists to gats | |
| Niggas don' t be knowing what be going | |
| On when I be flowing wilder than Samoans | |
| Bitches get dissed because they Miss like Jones | |
| When it' s my turn to throw, you get hit with stones | |
| Now I guess your whole crew' s under pressure | |
| Don' t mess around with the sarge, man, I' m Large like Professor | |
| Spots blown run for cover, it' s just another | |
| Boot Camp bomb, sound the alarm, I' m with Sluggah | |
| Hook: Starang Wondah | |
| Everything is real AKA the nature | |
| Everything is real What we call it? Nature | |
| Everything is real AKA the nature | |
| Everything is real O. G. C. call it nature | |
| Verse 4: Louieville Sluggah | |
| When I ran around town, doing things I did | |
| Bucking shots at them criminal kids | |
| Many tried to infiltrate through my mind state | |
| But my mate, the lye break kept my ing mind straight | |
| Bitches get put up, and punks shot down | |
| Frowns on their faces when them niggas draw the trey pounds | |
| Clowns front, act like they don' t know | |
| But O. G. C. agrees that that' s a no-no | |
| Crying, whining like that Lion | |
| Far from bows, so hop your ass on that ing Yellow Road | |
| Sewn up from the toes up, emcees get no leeway | |
| O. G. C. ' ll split ya three-ways | |
| Verse 5: Top Dog | |
| From the parts unknown, I have sparked and blown any punk | |
| Who wan' test, or any marked with the chrome | |
| It is known that my style increases | |
| Like the deficit, you' re best to get out of my face, I' m on some next shit | |
| Yes, it gets hectic like Chill Rob, Ill squad | |
| Who pull the cards on retards | |
| We scar Who? anybody, and make niggas wanna party | |
| So don' t act rowdy ' cause, in this room it' s mad cloudy | |
| Now we walk around with the Glock and the pound, G | |
| Verse 6: Starang Wondah | |
| And you knows that there' s no stopping Fab 5, Ruck and Rocking | |
| Originoo Gunns make other crews run like stockings | |
| Hype when the mic' s inside my control | |
| Tighten up my grip so I won' t fold | |
| Wetting niggas, I' ll play too much, I' ll leave ' em damp | |
| I' m the champ Starang you know from the Boot Camp | |
| The illest, obsolete fleet from PJ' s | |
| Gunn Clappa Numba One Number one DJs | |
| From the beginning, niggas knew they wasn' t winning | |
| Ninety-now is the ending of them niggas that' s pretending | |
| Hook: Louieville Sluggah, Top Dog, and Starang Wondah | |
| When you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the Originoo Gunn Clappaz don' t enter | |
| No doubt, do it like this and like that | |
| Put your change in the streets from fists to gats | |
| Rips and tears when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the Big Kahuna next on your menu | |
| Lord have mercy Do it like this and that | |
| Making changes on the streets from fists to gats, hah | |
| Bitch, please, and when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s that nigga Starang, don' t enter | |
| No doubt Do it up like this and that | |
| Wondering where all my niggas from Brooklyn at |
| zuò qǔ : Walt Dewgarde Jack McNair B. Powell D. Yates | |
| Verse 1: Louieville Sluggah | |
| Smack, and when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the quiet riot storming in the center | |
| No doubt Do it like this and like that | |
| Put the change in the streets from fists to gats | |
| Feeling loosey goosey off the liquor, can' t shut these lips up | |
| Never slip up, but on point just like a stick-up | |
| I' ll shoot my gift to your gut like a jail jux | |
| And run my line up your spine like a blind book | |
| Shook crooked booked | |
| Ain' t no time for joking, provoke this like gun smoke | |
| Some nice and hoping, soaked in acid | |
| Eating, can be that bastard, Eleven thirty fire, sound burn asses to ashes | |
| Verse 2: Top Dog Starang Wondah | |
| Rips and tears when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the Big Kahuna next on your menu | |
| Lord have mercy Do it like this and that | |
| Making changes on the streets from fists to gats, hah | |
| I race to the new unknown | |
| No one is home, so I relax my chrome | |
| Temporarily until I come face-to-face with these | |
| Fake-ass slackers who try to bury we | |
| You better be mentally, physically fit | |
| ' Cause O. G. C. comes equipped for your lip | |
| No flapping, having heart attacks when we' re coming through | |
| Your back door, and you still asking for more | |
| Of Top Dog, but you don' t really want no more | |
| They all fall, and they all spoiled | |
| Verse 3: Starang Wondah | |
| Booyah! And when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the beast from the East, don' t enter | |
| No doubt Do it up like this and that | |
| Make the change in the streets, like, from fists to gats | |
| Niggas don' t be knowing what be going | |
| On when I be flowing wilder than Samoans | |
| Bitches get dissed because they Miss like Jones | |
| When it' s my turn to throw, you get hit with stones | |
| Now I guess your whole crew' s under pressure | |
| Don' t mess around with the sarge, man, I' m Large like Professor | |
| Spots blown run for cover, it' s just another | |
| Boot Camp bomb, sound the alarm, I' m with Sluggah | |
| Hook: Starang Wondah | |
| Everything is real AKA the nature | |
| Everything is real What we call it? Nature | |
| Everything is real AKA the nature | |
| Everything is real O. G. C. call it nature | |
| Verse 4: Louieville Sluggah | |
| When I ran around town, doing things I did | |
| Bucking shots at them criminal kids | |
| Many tried to infiltrate through my mind state | |
| But my mate, the lye break kept my ing mind straight | |
| Bitches get put up, and punks shot down | |
| Frowns on their faces when them niggas draw the trey pounds | |
| Clowns front, act like they don' t know | |
| But O. G. C. agrees that that' s a no-no | |
| Crying, whining like that Lion | |
| Far from bows, so hop your ass on that ing Yellow Road | |
| Sewn up from the toes up, emcees get no leeway | |
| O. G. C. ' ll split ya three-ways | |
| Verse 5: Top Dog | |
| From the parts unknown, I have sparked and blown any punk | |
| Who wan' test, or any marked with the chrome | |
| It is known that my style increases | |
| Like the deficit, you' re best to get out of my face, I' m on some next shit | |
| Yes, it gets hectic like Chill Rob, Ill squad | |
| Who pull the cards on retards | |
| We scar Who? anybody, and make niggas wanna party | |
| So don' t act rowdy ' cause, in this room it' s mad cloudy | |
| Now we walk around with the Glock and the pound, G | |
| Verse 6: Starang Wondah | |
| And you knows that there' s no stopping Fab 5, Ruck and Rocking | |
| Originoo Gunns make other crews run like stockings | |
| Hype when the mic' s inside my control | |
| Tighten up my grip so I won' t fold | |
| Wetting niggas, I' ll play too much, I' ll leave ' em damp | |
| I' m the champ Starang you know from the Boot Camp | |
| The illest, obsolete fleet from PJ' s | |
| Gunn Clappa Numba One Number one DJs | |
| From the beginning, niggas knew they wasn' t winning | |
| Ninety-now is the ending of them niggas that' s pretending | |
| Hook: Louieville Sluggah, Top Dog, and Starang Wondah | |
| When you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the Originoo Gunn Clappaz don' t enter | |
| No doubt, do it like this and like that | |
| Put your change in the streets from fists to gats | |
| Rips and tears when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s the Big Kahuna next on your menu | |
| Lord have mercy Do it like this and that | |
| Making changes on the streets from fists to gats, hah | |
| Bitch, please, and when you hear that, then ya | |
| Know that it' s that nigga Starang, don' t enter | |
| No doubt Do it up like this and that | |
| Wondering where all my niggas from Brooklyn at |
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