text: Ego trip, ego trip
  My man Plug Two through the ego trip
  Oodles and oodles of Os, 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 dont cast a glow
  Yes, I guess its reflex
  Some have no control 
  Id rather let a laughter
  And tally, off I go
  Canoeing in the river or out into the O
  You just know were not
  So not play the role
  Some are lovey-Dovey, ah you crazy crow
  And some shake your hand but
  Ayo, I was John Doe, now Im Mr. Jolico
  Pissed with the witness, so now I adore
  Os got the world 
  Ayo, girls gave the Os 
  Now, where they arose, well, nobody knows
  And what do they mean? Well, heres how it goes
  Well, oh shoots got the Os when you hold the dough
  You know who you are, but they didnt know
  And now with respect they flex like a pro
  Youre first another nigga but now an Afro
  Oodles, Os, Os, Os
  Oodles, Os, Os, Os
  Oodles, Os, Os, Os
  Oodles, Os, Os, Os
  Oodles, Os, Os, Os
  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 well bestow
  Now, oodles of Os, they have the Hos in mic checks
  Os take the shape of medallions and specs
  Dont forget the Os 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 dont sniff the ker-plows
  My man Mase got something to say and it goes:
  I think were talkin bout the oodles of Os, ya know
  I think were talkin bout the Oodles of Os, yeah
  Talkin bout the oodles of Os, ya know
  I think were talkin bout the oodles of Os
  I think were talkin bout the oodles of Os, ya know
  I think were talkin bout oodles of Os, yeah
  Talkin bout the Os and the oodles and the oodles and the oodles
  Hoods like to play my Joe, ya know
  Guns goin bo! people hit the floor
  Dont have a piece but an arrow and bow
  Target it firm cause Im 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
  Word up
  We love yall