Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Oh My Lord lyrics

Why niggas wanna clock me?
Like that dance called the Tati
Don't they know I break motherfuckers
Into parts like Rocky
Part I, part I I, part I I I
Niggas can't fuck with me
My style's knock-kneed plum crazy (what?)
Who's that wild ass
Motherfucker catchin' wreck
Stickin' Jamaicans for sound
Sets outside discotheques
It's Klep the death specialist
Stallone and Stone shit
Stayin' high representin' for the nine-quint
Ras bad guy
Burns the house down like Left Eye
Why try mimic? MC's get
Broke like speed limit's (uhh)
Niggas can't fuck with my metaphors
Canin' MC's like they in Singapore
Klep been through more wars


Than Gump or Shore
Put together catchin' leathers
On the regular, got that net
Push me round and Dread stressin' a
Trick ho
What the Dread won't know won't hurt
Robbin his workers for they work now
Whose turf is this?
It's Klep's, the clothes wreckers'
Life interceptor, pussy collector
Got your bitch on my dick and
I ain't even stressin' her
Check enough sex in her, my styles irregular
Junior MAFIA clique moves in
Like the settlers

Niggas say "Oh my lord!"

Throw gats to Giuliani
Flows tighter than pigeon punani, try me
Die G dangerous, since my daddy bust me out
The tip of his dick
Biggie Smalls with the wickedest shit
Spit clips, niggas split like bananas
Flavor like Tropicana orange, mango, peach
I strangle each - negro for they dough
Niggas get to bendin', got two cases
One pendin' 560 V-12 engine, women spinnin'
In 929 Mazda's, Tammy and Natasha
The ménage à trois around my way
Like Ill and Al Skratch smokin' 50
Sacks in the back of Ac's
Windows cracked, so sit back relax
Yo Vec, crush the hash
The Beretta's in the stash

Niggas say "Oh my lord!"
Niggas say "Oh my lord!"
Niggas say "Oh my lord!"
Niggas say "Oh my lord!"

What you doin' with yourself? Stone
Heart's the way to wealth
Indecisive thoughts make sentences get dealt
Money makes the world go round, robbin' shit
Fuck a job shit, niggas want cribs
Bricks and spliffs
All-wheel automobiles, traction control
For clay roads, rollin' with dough
Kickin' game
On the cell with bitches on hold
That's how we roll (uhh)
Rhymes now tight as hell so
To the bank I stroll (uhh)
Money on my mind, open lips from my eyes
Reveal pupils shaped like dollar signs -

- the world is mine!
Niggas frontin', feelin' twelve gauge pellets
BIG is repellent, to all that "He say
She say"
We play, Russian roulette, fuck the threat
Your whole crew's vagina
You and your co-signer
Nigga, we rollin' in eight and a halfs
TV's in the dash
Three G's in the stash, see we love the cash
More coke to make some more

Niggas say "Oh my lord!"

Niggas don't know bout my game
They don't know how complex it is
Baggin' bitches in GS 300 Lexuses
And the sex is for summer sports
Passports for drug transports
To remote resorts
Bitches with Donna Karan "Catwoman" suit's
Matchin' figure boots haircut cute
On tops and garters like prostitutes
My lyrics explicit
Got bitches bringin' they own condoms
On the first visit

If Biggie bring big bowls of beef
Backin' bitch niggas down
Burners bring bundles of belief
Common thief, slash drug chief, syndicated
Went from 10 K
To 24 K and motherfuckers hate it
JM sedated, quarantined (uhh)
BIG for President
Buckin' shots past the spleen
9 millimeter dream, MAC-11 nightmares
Electric chairs, which MC's do you fear?
Big Poppa, Junior MAFIA, nuff said
Niggas disrespect just are dead