What U Are (Diirty Ogz) Bonus Track E

I just wanna walk on clouds, never come down. I roam amongst the greats, So that must make me one of the greatest. The one and only, I'm the only one. The dirty motherfuckin' OGs. Dollars and cents, money to get. Bitches and hoes, expensive clothes. Fancy cars, immaculate bars. Actin' hard, it still ain't gonna change the fact That you just a bitch. You just a bitch, you just a bitch. That's just who you are. See, that's just who you are. See, that's Just who you are. I spit it how I live it, no gimmick. Bitch, I'm bun B trill, I run elite steel. No cuffin', no bluffin', just fuckin'. Sucker duckin' 'cause these bitch niggas ain't Sayin' nothin'. You know I keep shit on the Real. You know I'm smokin' on kill. And I'ma keep speakin' how I feel. Bitch, I'm still ill, hot from the grill. Yo, nigga, chill. All I need is my instruments Of war. Which is one pen, one pad, One beat, one mic. One mil, one deal, it's a done deal when It's done steel. And even if I get a Few more meal tickets. Me and the dirty OGs gon' still kick it. That's right. 'Cause I'm still with it, bitch I Roll up a motherfuckin' bazooka. Roll up in a hookah, fire with a dooka. I'm lookin' for a nigga. Rest in peace to Chris Knight, my bitch is Aphrodite. I'm shootin' before I'm fightin', That shit died in the 90s. I'm hella over you bitches, hella over you niggas. Hella over you snitches, hella over them riches. You niggas say you be gettin', listen to me, My nigga. I won't say it again, my nigga, Say somethin', I'm trippin'. Take that, motherfuckers. Like that. Beat a nigga's ass quick with the Hands or strap. I make so many laps, my Life don't know right. So I get stuck on my mission, bendin' corners All night. So I'm thinkin' and thuggin' and Plottin', plannin' and lookin'. And got the riders on deck from Pomona to Brooklyn. So I'm up in the kitchen over the Stove and I'm cookin'. And got the pistols intact In case they peekin' and lookin', nigga. So just chill. Yeah, or get your cap peeled, Fuckin' with a G on the real. A four yard walker, stalker, street chalker. With it from the intro, dog, I'm a dog Walker. It's 30 over here with the Gs, Remain Gs. SC, CPC, Pomona and LB. So West West respect it, so West West respect It. Yeah, nigga, we the architects of this gangsta Shit. So West West respect it, so West West Go check it. And when I finish rockin', Your bitch gon' get naked. But nah, I don't love her, all I do Is fuck her. And send her on licks on These motherfuckin' tricks. Dirty Vern with the dirty perm, let it burn. Concern yourself to whom it may concern. To whom it may concern. Dollars money to get. Bitches and hoes, Expensive clothes. Fancy cars, immaculate bars. Actin' hard, it still ain't gonna change the fact That you just a bitch. You just a bitch, you just a bitch. That's just who you are. See, that's that's just who you are. Hey, Trady, what up, my nigga? Dollars over bitches and Impalas on them switches. I stay clockin' out of kitchens 'cause I gotta Get my riches. Nothin' shorter than vicious, Solid is my credentials. Busters duck or get stuck when I'm poppin' with The pistol. The quickest to get to trippin', Crippin' since I was inches. Rippin' and hittin' fences, snatchin' purses then Was zippin'. Back and forth into prison, reppin' for My division. Shankin' enemies, slippin' when I Execute my mission. Bangin' on opposition, takin' it to the limit. Bitches, I only get them, it ain't pimpish if You're trippin'. Truly, I been a menace, hittin' Licks for chickens. Hustlin' independent, Not really fuckin' with niggas. Gangsta always did it, in it until I'm finished. Livin' and spendin' millions with my niggas while we Chillin'. The way it's intended. Forever gettin' major paper while these Daytons is Spendin'. OG. Trady, Trady, Trady. It's solid. It's solid. CMW, CMW. Chill. It's Real. We the low. We the low. Corrupt Young Gotti. Rest in Peace to Dog pound gang. CMW.