Oh My God Lyrics - A Long Hot Summer - Masta Ace

Uhh... Beatnuts! Masta Ace 

Gettin cash to trash the place 

Take a blast, c'mon, uh... 

Y'all rap dudes are funny, I don't feud with dummies 

I don't need no problems, I need food and money 

I recall when we used to fool with honeys 

That was cute as bunnies with the smoothest tummies 

Now we like Brinks tryin to move this money 

Run with cast to Ak-man, rude and crummy 

It's the chairman of the board and I'm carryin a sword 

I look heavy in a Chevy and I'm scary in a Ford 

F-150, you should just run swiftly 

Unless you nice, you like it you can just come get me 

Y'all dudes sweet like cakes and pies 

I go together with rap like shakes and fries 

And I hate them guys with hate in their eyes 

Hopin we fall, can't wait to rise 

Yeah, I'm all natural like a case of Snapple 

And don't talk shit cause the Ace'll slap you 

And don't try to run cause I'll chase and catch you 

Put a sharp blade to your face and scratch you (ouch) 

What'chu wan' fuck with a ninja for? 

I'm like a cornered rat with a injured paw 

And I'll bend your jaw and end your tour 

Even if I lose the battle I'mma win the war, yeah 

When Beatnuts and Masta Ace both up in the place 

It's like - "Oh, my, God!" 

When you can't find your girl, your girl probably up in our face 

She like - "Oh, my, God!" 

It's mad ways to do it my man, and we doin it hard 

We like - "Oh-oh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh my, my, my God!" 

I don't mix weed with yay' 

Let's take it to the streets nigga lead the way 

I'mma watch you bleed your way into emergency 

You're gonna need surgery 

A facelift, face it, Psych' is whylin 

Like them niggas on Riker's Island 

Stab you with a spoon in the lunchroom 

Have you hallucinatin {"Oh my God"} like you on mushroom 

Head twitchin, like an epileptic 

You'll get dropped (like what) like elephant shit 

I'm from the home of the Yankees 

You not feelin that then yank these, I'm sittin on twankies 

You goin nowhere fast like a treadmill 

Don't make me have to roll up to your crib and +Meet Your Parents+ 

Like Ben Still' - you'll get killed 

For tryin to be a funny ass (like who) like Ben Hill (ha ha) 

I don't, wanna have to run up in your label 

And put a hole in ya head like a bagel (blaow!) 

From here to Milwaukee 

I do it for the kids like Bill Cosby (hey hey hey!) 

It's Big Ju the family favorite 

You should just place the name on your forehead and staple it 

I'm here y'all, I finally made it 

Then I can be really cool to talk to when I'm medicated 

One of the game's most underrated 

I'm makin a hit, then everybody wanna recreate it 

Every due that come through I paid it 

So now if you bite this, I'm leavin you decapitated 

Came to show you niggas I got soul 

Me and the music man together bust out of control 

It's a feelin that's hard to hold 

Look, even if you pregnant it makes you wanna work that pole 

Now tell me y'all, what's really good? 

Cause everything I'm hearin on the radio is hillbilly hood 

It's evident that I clearly should 

Put a fuckin foot up your ass to make the shit understood 

{"What's the matter trailer, can't you take a little heat?"} 

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