Do somethin to make me feel better - I'ma do somethin to make you feel great) It's like Bon Appetit y'all [VERSE 1: O.C.] Commonly known as O.C. to
somethin to make me feel better - I'ma do somethin to make you feel great) It's like Bon Appetit y'all [VERSE 1: O.C.] Commonly known as O.C. to some
blow up (Boom!) Right before your eyes, forget about the dividends I just want to say I remember when [B.o.B:] Well, it's B to the O, O to the B You
will smile in your face But behind your back them same folk will frown But that's enough about them, talk about me Yes it's B to the O, I said B to the O
building like a fireman Who can outspit me when I'm high off sticky Throwin back Patron shots in some creased up dickies I'm D.O.C. certified, Ice Cube
Wears A Red Bandana) [Verse 1:] Chea Chea Dear God Let Me Clense My Soul Throw Away All The Rims And The Gold O No I Cant Do That Do I Love God? True
: It is the right minute, the right hour to show my power So, let me shine, bloom like a flower For those who got too much self estime Keep in mind
get your cash on, M.O.B. That's Money Over Bitches, cause they breed envy Now rule two is a hard one, watch for phonies Keep yo', enemies close nigga,
her dignity C.O.D.- Charity C.O.D.- Charity - no charge C.O.D.- Charity - no fees C.O.D.- Charity C.O.D.- Charity - she came - she saw - she conquered C.O
ask around, they tell you who the rawest in town Cause I'm a +Thug By Nature+, strictly for the paper Ain't nobody steppin to Steve (B-O-N-E) I come with
scully with a New York fit Yeah! I'm on my New York shit Run up in The Tunnel catch a New York vick O.D.B. reppin New York sick Shit you want the truth
: (feat. Def Squad Artists & MC Eiht) Intro: Sen Dog Yeah Bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five Soul Assassins Cypress Hill joint. Yo we want
Round's on Me" (get it together) Kuniva, Ca$his (I ain't goin nowhere) Stat Quo, Bobby Creekwater (O. Trice) WHAT! [Obie Trice] Niggaz didn't kill me
all about it, The Movement on the loose say we Boomshake the loudest You don't wanna miss nothin keep yo I glued Like a High speed chase on the five o
think they really know me I keep a wrap about me while I'm driving daddy's Audi I pay the toll fighting for my own soul Cause the bourgeoise type of
forsake me Put the weight of the world on my shoulders I thinkin' I could brush it off and nobody notice Keep raisin' my kids: Britney, Jeffry, and Jordan Keep
Man even said, "You're a monster!" Yeah, that's how I feel To be down, you must appeal To the crew, we're rated R O.C., O.G., Bobby Johnson son Ask me
