The Fab 5 - āBlah (Originoo Muddy)ā
[Emcee(s): Top Dog, Ruck, Louieville Sluggah, Rock, and Starang Wondah]
[Producer(s): Tony Moore]
[Intro: Samples from Hard Target (1993)]
Emil Fouchon: Now heās cornered and outnumbered 20 to 1. Heās an annoying little fucking insect and I want him stepped on hard
Emil Fouchon: Youāre not angry at me, are you, Pik?
Pik van Cleef: Not at all. I donāt get angry. (*Holds up his shotgun*). Iām a professional
[Verse 1: Top Dog]
You must
Be blind and deaf to think that you can test
Originoo Gunn Clappz Two to your chest (Pumm! Pumm!)
May the buddha bless you where they rest you
Underground, where you hear the sound
(Bucktown!) Home where we roam, pack mad
Chrome, so, n***as, watch your dome-piece
Or you just might just catch two shots to your mother-
-fucking headābatty bwoy gwan dead
[Verse 2: Ruck]
Time for
Some action, dick-in-your-mouth satisfaction
Iāll pull it out, youāll āBreathe Againā like Toni Braxton
Iām asking n***as, but Iām blasting n***as. Yo, we
Pass them n***as, so the Ruck just laugh at n***as
My mind ills off rhyme skills and nine mills
So Iāll drill styles that keep the mind filled
Blunts get smoked and chumps get choked when they
Try to quote the notes that B-I-G Ruck wrote, so, uh
Make way for the master blaster
Who blast past bastards ācause my shitās mastered, uh
[Hook: The Fab 5] (x3)
Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that)
The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz
[Verse 3: Louieville Sluggah]
Well, itās the Louieville
Sluggah, motherfucker, straight out of Bucktown
Word to mother, shit is real fucking with this crowd
Times is hard. N***as do need a bodyguard
To block the body scars. Bootcamp always stands in charge
I brings the beef to the biggest of them bigger n***as
All them bigger n***as scared to death of all us little n***as
And Smif (Smif) to the Wessun (Wessun) got our back
So, n***a, grab your gat ācause you could catch a head clap
Slap the n***a face up and down, take the smile
Off your face or catch two strays straight to your face
Youāre punk pussy, youās a rookie. Iāma play your
Ass like a hot day of hooky, so push me
Iāll stomp your face, put a boot in the place
Of your front tooth. The truth? You shouldāve let loose
[Hook: The Fab 5] (x2)
Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that)
The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz
[Verse 4: Rock]
Ayyo, go get
Your boys, tell āem, āBring the noise if you want itā
(Fuck them n***as!) Try and run up on this n***a that stay blunted
That n***a Rockās iller than ill. I will kill
At will and fill you up from your gut to your grill
(Tell āem Sam, tell āem Sam) Nah, man, that be my grandpops
Iāll slam cops for Glocks and buck shots all over your block
I canāt believe there really be non-believers
Who wanna see the Rock give āem Growing Pains like Mike Seaver
(Nahāmean?) Mr. Inflicksta will jack ya
Rolling with the Originoo Gunn Clappaz, so act up
Weāre strapped (What!!?), Boot Campās thick in this bitch
Guard your melon or catch a swelling from some old stiff shit
[Verse 5: Starang Wondah]
N***as
Get crushed into dust. They could feel
The wrath, plus fuck around and get that ass bust
Standing in the back, youāre wondered and youāre frightened
Fucking with the Strang, youāll face the thunder and the lightning
Awesome, tossing n***as like Steve Austin
N***as get baked like beans thatās straight from Boston
And my Glocks make shit hot, cops get
More nervous than Thursdays on the Box, and
Every now and then, a sucker tries to attack
Heltah Skeltah plays the front, Gunn Clappaz in the back, so
Act like you want the MAC to your grill (What?)
Embrace my face, itās kill or be killed
[Hook: The Fab 5] (x4)
Blah! (Like this) Blah! (Like that)
The Heltah, the Skeltah, the Gunn, the Clappaz