[Intro: Posdnous]
Ego trip, ego trip
My man Plug Two through the ego trip

[Verse 1: Trugoy the Dove]
Oodles and oodles of O's, you know
You get 'em from my sister
You get 'em from my bro
All I is is man, and once an embryo
Am I solid gold? I don't cast a glow
Yes, I guess it's reflex
Some have no control (What?)
I'd rather let a laughter
And tally, off I go
Canoeing in the river or out into the O
You just know we're not
So not play the role
Some are lovey-Dovey, ah you crazy crow
And some shake your hand but
(This is called the Show)
Ayo, I was John Doe, now I'm Mr. Jolico'
Pissed with the witness, so now I adore
O's got the world ('cause O's was on tour)
Ayo, girls gave the O's (and all my n***as, for sure)
Now, where they arose, well, nobody knows
And what do they mean? Well, here's how it goes
Well, oh shoot's got the O's when you hold the dough
You know who you are, but they didn't know
And now with respect they flex like a pro
You're first another n***a but now an Afro
[Chorus: De La Soul]
Oodles, O's, O's, O's
Oodles, O's, O's, O's
Oodles, O's, O's, O's
Oodles, O's, O's, O's
Oodles, O's, O's, O's

[Verse 2: Posdnous]
Last of the fast Plug pipers at your door
In your eyes burning like rubbing alcohol
Native is the Tongue that speaks the Guacomo
Kinfolk will play this in stere-ere-o
Chanters play the part of a herd at a show
Pos prints the peace on his jeans or Girbeaux
But let the herd know if beef they wanna throw
Lunches of punches is what we'll bestow
Now, oodles of O's, they have the "Ho's" in mic checks
O's take the shape of medallions and specs
Don't forget the O's that let the air in my nose
Breathin' in the fresh, stale hit the road
Girls ask for flicks and unblock the pores
Eat the Al Greens, we don't sniff the ker-plows
My man Mase got something to say and it goes:
(Maseo is rockin' on the radio)
I think we're talkin' 'bout the oodles of O's, ya know
I think we're talkin' 'bout the Oodles of O's, yeah
Talkin' 'bout the oodles of O's, ya know
I think we're talkin' 'bout the oodles of O's
I think we're talkin' 'bout the oodles of O's, ya know
I think we're talkin' 'bout oodles of O's, yeah
Talkin' 'bout the O's and the oodles and the oodles and the oodles
(Oh, shit)
Hoods like to play my Joe, ya know
Guns goin' "bo!" people hit the floor
Don't have a piece but an arrow and bow
Target it firm 'cause I'm head Comancho
Charging barricades like a raging rhino
The donuts come big and some in jumbo
The Landlord is finished but before I go
We give a shout out to Tramps and our fellow Jungle Bros
[Outro: Trugoy the Dove]
Word up
We love y'all