Osiris
Written by J. Pringle and B. Solomon
Produced by B-Side for Select Personnel Productions
Co-produced by Postell Pringle for jimmie & wilson productions


VERSE 1 [Postell]
(NUH!)
The Osiris of the shit
This here feel like Wu-Tang forever bitch
Obscure samples, 16-bit drums
Cush smoke in my lungs, nigga, feel like '96
Or more like a G took 'bout 90 hits
From a vaporizer. [I] got the munchies
Ate rapper snacks - emcee appetizers
Old but I ain't gettin' wiser
You know you're trill when your Deutschland fans
be yellin' that's "That's my scheisse!"
Made your girl blush like she saw the size of
my erect penis. Made her gush, but more like a geyser
Stingy with the bush, call her pussy miser
She still murder the dick, swear to God, nobody gets it live-er
[I] ain't bein facetious. Man, I'ma fan
You ain't know? Your hoe got the coldest skull cross the land
'Specially with them overactive saliva glands
Talk a lot but chugs a cock like a budweiser can
What a woman! I'll probably write this song about her.
Just to show you suckas I'm the trillest nigga out here
It's reasonable, but I doubt there's
a goddamn one who rocks like Jason
Whether it's ‘in’ or ‘outdoors’.
"You know nothin’" Before, you knew a bloodclottin’ lot
I freeze up all these hip hoppers that you swear is hot
Postell, that's the name - please wear it out!
Apologies in advance, Mama, I'm 'bout to swear a lot
[A] good protestant upbringing, [my] parents can't condone
sinfulness. Specifically, when I confess it on microphones
Religiously I've grown.
In fact, I'm droppin' Big Baby Jesus shits.
Call me Asun Jones (Nuh!)

CHORUS
The Osiris of the shit!
R. I. P. ODB, forever bitch
Stick out our necks like an ostrich
No days off until it pays off
And leave a nigga awful rich
Act like you know, like you won an Oscar, bitch
Or call the cops, yo. We ‘bout to kill it
With extreme prejudice, like a bigot
The crowds screamin', when I say
"Can You Dig It!"

VERSE 2
Last but never least. Beast long, forever last
Like I got a GED, see I ain't never had no class, nigga
Graduated from the school of hard knocks
With some hard rocks who sold hard rock
just to get cash, nigga
Blue tops. Adidas shoe box - where they stashed figures
Talk shit and back it up like they eatin' ass, nigga
Smoke you like hash cigarettes
Punk shawdies, Kurupt Young Gottis
They probably rap with Daz, Nigga
So please don't think
I ain't a Warrior. The armor I got on don't chink
Oh… And even if my plans get wrinkled, my start don't twinkle
I still get plenty hole that's pink
A hard on for hard drums and my dick don't shrink
Drop feces on you hoes like my shit don't stink
So, so let me see your hands in the sky 'fore I go
Like Shimmy shimmy ya, Shimmy yam, shimmy yuh (Nuh!)

CHORUS
The Osiris of the shit!
R. I. P. ODB, forever bitch
Stick out our necks like an ostrich
No days off until it pays off
And leave a nigga awful rich
Act like you know, like you won an Oscar, bitch
Or call the cops, yo. We ‘bout to kill it
With extreme prejudice, like a bigot
The crowds screamin', when I say
"Can You Dig It!"

OUTRO
I can bake rhymes good as a Tastykake
I can bake
I - I - I can bake
I - I - I can bake rhymes good as a Tastykake
I can bake rhymes good as a Tastykake
I can bake rhymes good as a Tastykake
I can bake
I - I can bake
I - I can bake rhymes good as a Tastykake
mix / This style? I mastered this
NUH!