SINGER: Ol' Dirty Bastard

SONG:Hippa To Da Hoppa

My beats are slammin...
Verse one:
My beats are slammin from the rugged programming
my man bob marley hey my man i'm jammin
you could never touch the stamina, while i'm rammin the
hip-hop crowd makes me rrrah rrrah rrrah
other mc's got flipped with the ease
beggin me for burnt cigar, stop the music please
no, cause i'm a pro, rap to the convo
make a crowd say hoe, at a strip show
represent, my name is ason, keep calm
rhyme's too smoky, funky like a stink bomb
boom! blowin up niggaz better than pullin the trigger
so you betta run for covah!
niggaz better loosen they ass, felt the glass
a forty ounce bottle, yo yo yo yo money yo pass!
woooh-woooh-woooh! i sweat it live
mc gonna live god? no, the nigga die
the max-imum of mc's are populating
the min-imum of those mc's are dominating
now all and together now, to what what who?
rhymes come stinky like a girl's poo-poo
Chorus:
Hippa to da hoppa and you just don't stoppa (2x)
Verse two:
Ahh shit, here i go once again
rhymes get shitty from the time that i spend
i come old like toe fungus mold
ask my grand-pop pop duke gave my soul
then i came with that old al green shit
saaa-die, taught me the ballisitc
i get you blurry in your eye with a high note
down, to the brownsville, oops you got smoked
the shit i'm droppin is stinkin up your area
when i shoot it through like a messanger carrier
i keep my breath smellin like shit so i can get
funky, baby i'm not havin it
Chorus 2x
Help master! *battle ensues*
dragon-fist!
horse-fist!
bastard, i didn't know who you were