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View Full Version : OGs (Older Gods)


MosHigh
05-21-2010, 11:16 AM
HOOK
Hold up J put that away just move the crowd, I got 'em
locked in the spot trying to take it all in one shot
we can't stop won't stop we Older Gods are too hot
we keep Heathens weezin' and chicks drip a lot
Lyte as rock off the top MosHigh is how i drop 'em
while J.T. MC we OGs feed Heathens til we pop 'em...



first verse - MosHigh
action-packed super supense classic capers of stunts we invent
jumpin' in the way of any intent if the show you tryin' to prevent
gravediggaz with the pick and the sickle we dig deep
aftershock rip thru the surface still waters ripple the dead out their sleep
we play for keeps each spit triple trickle rain, hail or sleet
feature feat on ya street and cripple the simple with just a pull from the sweet
we heavy mental on any digital scale
pi we divide and infinitely share til we're pale
Black Thoughts we spark have Roots in dirt where others fail
with no ?uestion we're confessin' in the Ill we dwell
adjusting our tie and coat tails Marx men no Monkey...Strictly Business
I Shot the Sheriff while J moved the crowd so they can bare witness

second verse - J.T.S

verbally intense to burn y'all in our presence like incense
the smoke rises a ghostly sight made em jump the fence
all me and my domination knows is dominance
mos high hit em they falling dominoe's
either ransom is given or they'll end up caged gimps bubba's hoes
make em feel the rhyme or the nine who knows what they chose
a feared leader like Suge when he was running Death Row
So let's exchange pounds cause if it's blows your flesh will show
from a swift slice to penetrate skin til' the bone cracks within
no your without a doubt under my mercy
it was a day at the races i flowed rapid like Percy
religious fanatics cursed me for the black magic
watch the message dedinate while i skate off like inspector gadget
expect the static to hit your fabric the flow is havoc



third verse - J.T.S

Emcee's are left statue stiff from pressure points hit
Then we shake they pockets for dollars, and cents
car-keys and credit cards life is hard in the ward
the psycho broke out he's running wild, and he's armed
with needless to say poison tipped needles, and grenades
the epidemic i invented basically destroys the human body quicker than full blown aids
stoned rage walking i can communicate with dolphins
and raise pharaoh's from tombs got a guardian squadron
so harbor your goons these guys are brute's
we focused to storm and form a deadly line of troops



last verse - MosHigh
we clean sweep hate right under the rug stomp out bugs
and let the escargot flow til your belly hole blow
know your Rolle if the Good Times you find yourself on a stroll
we'll make ya fam say "Damn!, Damn!, Damn!"
when Old Fashion Styles unload
Wu Wear on D-Block it's Common on the Corner where ice grills are cold
J Legend among brethen where Mos stay High droppin diamonds and gold
Sign of the Times we Warners of Bros. who run up on us
like their head ain't got price that could be sold
truth be told rhymes grow like mold
real grimey ask J where to find me
probably out making sure our alibis stick tight and hold...