OPG Theme

[Verse One] [Reef The Lost Cauze]: We puff cigars and sip Jesus juice To get dough I don't need a booth long as crack smokes and needles shoot Unbelievable, a lethal crew, a evil rule I be in Cali smoking diesel, you never leave the room You in your crib just clickety-clackin Typin' messages about how niggas be rappin' Like, "He used to spit fire, like really, what happened?" You really need cabbage cause you simply a faggot, cocksucker Why your jaw's tight? Ayo I'm sick, I got a wild bitch who strangled you to death like Arturo's wife Rest in peace to all of those who died tragically Steve McNair got a nigga scared to eat at Applebees I mean Dave & Buster's And I don’t give a fuck about my own life, so it's nothing for me to take another Your bitch is a freak, she said, "Take a number" We ran trizznain, that bitch say, "Take a number" [ VERSE 2: Burke the Jurke ] Ayo, I weigh about a deuce and a half And maneuver too fast for you losers to grasp You're not eludin' my wrath Grab the duffelbag and scoop the loot and the cash I subtract you from your stash and now you do the math I sit on the church steps with the booze in a flask I love the sound of the music from a funeral man Want me to google your producer, man, you dudes should just asa I see through you like glass and my goons just laugh Take a swig of the Grey Goose, take a trip to Jesus Get your gay troops, turn your strip to Beirut This is fight music, I ain't widowed a comrade This is combat, give your sister her son back I'm reppin OPG, you got OCD Your shit is one dimensional, my flow's 3D They they say that I'm as gritty as ODB Or Dirt McGirt, but they call me Burke the Jurke [ VERSE 3: Vinnie Paz ] Pazienza and Lost Cauze drunken with the .44s I just mangled the fucking mic, pussy, it's all yours I don't need to spit sixteens, you done in four bars Fat motherfucker, I only eat it if it's four stars When you knocked out cold it's hard to fight back Street pharmacist with more pills than Mike Jack I don't wanna listen to y'all, y'all shit is type wack I been eatin' rappers for years, you just a light snack Ayo Sharif, burn these motherfuckers at the stake They ain't gonna get a chance to learn from they mistake Death is comin for you motherfuckers, save the day Everything I spit is equivalent to a Mason's hate This is Pazienza, the Official Pistol Gang And we was born and bred in Killadelphia, Pistolvane The .38 or .45, see, every pistol bang They can levitate your body and they can rip through brain