OPG Theme Reef the Lost Cauze (Ft. Burke the Jurke & Vinnie Paz)
"OPG Theme" by Reef the Lost Cauze (Ft. Burke the Jurke & Vinnie Paz) is a hip-hop track from 2004. It explores themes of resilience, street life, and loyalty within the hip-hop community. The lyrics convey a strong sense of identity and defiance. Unique elements include hard-hitting beats and intricate wordplay, reflecting the genre's raw energy. #HipHop
[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
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
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