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o.g. - cale charles lyrics

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hook x1:
d*mn, i miss the whip game, big frames, drip paint, on god
this ain’t no mixed drank, this pain**on ice
cl!ck*clank, zip stank, big dank**on fire
cl!ck*clank, zip stank, big dank**on god

verse 1:
she wanna roll biscotti. that’s exotic, hoe. i got it though
this crown, this bacardi got me wilding**rolling chronic dope
for chickens in my oven, wanna lay dozens for my dollars, dough
don’t check on, i do not call on, i do not govern, i do not follow hoes
i am not undercover; i’m undiscovered by you commoners
i’mma need all of my commas, all of my guala up in my wallet, purse
every jinkies i holler, penny i garner make them hoes swallow girth
i’m polished; worth it all. admittedly get violent when the verse involved. but f*ck it
i was birthed in the jaws, submerged in the dark , covered in the smog. but word travels far
and now i got bodies and knowledge, and not a single apology for emerging a dog
you should know that this is history, n*gga. (jinkies! how?)
cuz it ain’t never been no mother f*cking mystery, n*gga (yikes!)

[hook] x2

bride (x2):
on ma, on god
i need my whip on frost
blow weed in this hotbox
i might re*up when i park
verse 2:
‘66 chevrolet chevelle**on swell
that’s spiffy*kicks. no cabernet; this is swill**by the well
look, i don’t p*ssyfoot; i just whip and cook, cuz my outlook is on l
police acting up and i’m black as f*ck. if they wet me up, they won’t tell..

[hook] x1

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