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Ol'Dirty Bastard Anybody Here are the song lyrics for Anybody by Ol'Dirty Bastard. For more excellent Ol'Dirty Bastard lyrics, run a search! Typed by: KnowledgeGod@btinternet.com * original and remix have identical lyrics [Intro: C-Murder] Tytanic, let's wake 'em up, ya heard? Yeah, it's real out here Killa block notch, wit' the ODB NYC, CP-3, nigga, what? Let me ask you a question What do you think about the game now? (What you think about it now?) How you feel like my name now (How you feel 'bout me now?) How you feel like C now? What do you think about the ODB now? (What?) What do you think about the game now? (What you think about it now?) How you feel like my name now (How you feel about me now?) How you feel like my name now (I told you I wanted somethin') [Ol' Dirty Bastard] Yeah, bite that point, the habit apprievin' No hope to find, that you're misbehavin' Link your crupid, fuck your brewin' Flash the burgers on your crewin' Cuz the monks, skippin' from the other MC's I got the amazing ability I get on the mic so you can have a ball I could fly through the air and stick to the wall I could take a punch or get hit by a car Could go to the nearest or farthest star As a matter of fact it's what I won't talk about Pop a word out of trace just to be in the house [Chorus: E-40] So pimped out about my big spendish I got a 20, 6 O'Clock extra chrystall Anybody dat wanna pop off at the lip Anybody that wanna give me banana split It's only E-40, Murder in this bitch All the money motivated me to biatch Three soldiers from the East, South and West Street soldiers holdin' it down for they vets [C-Murder] I'm C-Murder, murder mass ten, I'm wit' the Dirty Bastard And my flows comin' faster than a jet to Alaska I ask ya how you feelin' my collabo' The CP3, the ODB from NYC the ghetto B Light it up, let it cook, look in the mirror, let me crush Don't worry about how it looks, put some momey on my books Only God can judge me now That's when I heard the click click, I was Christened I ain't with them are you wid that Let them whistles out them pistols Let loose on them troops and then shake 'em like Cherok smoke I slam dunk 'em like Shaq I wanna be free, I'm not guilty, do you feel me? Chorus [E-40] Hey sluggin', wanna hit this rock dowm (rock down) I only got one world, mane, I feel like take this to the thick of him Under there, got the smell, you do the hoe you hear Fuck it there, let me get a swig of that Thunder Bird OK, it's cute, it's squashed Now, no though mane, lets have a back wash Yeah you trippin', "no I ain't", yeah you is That boy spittin', what's his name? 40, quarter, biatch [Ol' Dirty Bastard] I stage a place, place stage a me I'm a vision of truth, just a true MC Love hiphop so much, mic won't untouched Thugs grow unbust, bitch won't get fucked Every 40 ounce cracked, every napsack packed Ol' Dirty kickin' your ass, the record gets scrapped Oh, the record gets scrapped, the record gets scrapped Chorus [Outro: E-40] And there you have it E-40 the bonzerelli The ballatician from the Soyo block soil Turf hall, been through it all Hard 'til we have it all (hard 'til we have it all) Ay look it's C-Murder and Ol'Dirty Bastard If you don't stay your ass out of trouble What's up boy? ODB We got the same motherfuckin' birthday Novermber the 12th to be exact motherfuckers What the fuck you drinkin'? Fortay Get 'em off this motherfucker..
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