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Lyrics for 'Hippa To Da Hoppa' by 'Ol Dirty Bastard'
My Beats Are Slammin...
Verse One:
My Beats Are Slammin From The Rugged Programming
My Man Bob Marley Hey My Man I'm Jammin
You Could Never Touch The Stamina, While I'm Rammin The
Hip-hop Crowd Makes Me Rrrah Rrrah Rrrah
Other Mc's Got Flipped With The Ease
Beggin Me For Burnt Cigar, Stop The Music Please
No, Cause I'm A Pro, Rap To The Convo
Make A Crowd Say Hoe, At A Strip Show
Represent, My Name Is Ason, Keep Calm
Rhyme's Too Smoky, Funky Like A Stink Bomb
Boom! Blowin Up Niggaz Better Than Pullin The Trigger
So You Betta Run For Covah!
Niggaz Better Loosen They Ass, Felt The Glass
A Forty Ounce Bottle, Yo Yo Yo Yo Money Yo Pass!
Woooh-woooh-woooh! I Sweat It Live
Mc Gonna Live God? No, The Nigga Die
The Max-imum Of Mc's Are Populating
The Min-imum Of Those Mc's Are Dominating
Now All And Together Now, To What What Who?
Rhymes Come Stinky Like A Girl's Poo-poo
Chorus:
Hippa To Da Hoppa And You Just Don't Stoppa (2x)
Verse Two:
Ahh Shit, Here I Go Once Again
Rhymes Get Shitty From The Time That I Spend
I Come Old Like Toe Fungus Mold
Ask My Grand-pop Pop Duke Gave My Soul
Then I Came With That Old Al Green Shit
Saaa-die, Taught Me The Ballisitc
I Get You Blurry In Your Eye With A High Note
Down, To The Brownsville, Oops You Got Smoked
The Shit I'm Droppin Is Stinkin Up Your Area
When I Shoot It Through Like A Messanger Carrier
I Keep My Breath Smellin Like Shit So I Can Get
Funky, Baby I'm Not Havin It
Chorus 2x
Help Master! *battle Ensues*
Dragon-fist!
Horse-fist!
Bastard, I Didn't Know Who You Were
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