During the 1984-85 season, Orlando Woolridge averaged 22.9 points per game and combined with some rookie teammate of his named Michael Jordan to average over 51 points per game as an explosive one-two punch. Any real Bulls fan would remember that, and any real die-hard Bulls fan would make a track titled “Orlando Woolridge” for the fun of it as an ode to the Chicago Bulls then and now. You are welcome for the randomness backed by a phat beat.
Peep the lyrics after the jump.
i spit ammo, full clips, to handle all the bullshit
playin’ with an air around me, orlando woolridge
i met a girl, claimed that she was set, mature
independent, yeah i get the message, ain’t no messin’ her
sent her texts, received via blackberry messenger
come through, bring a friend we runnin’ checkers and guesstures
scattergories, akron mourning all their fallen cavs, for sure
chicago’s winnin’ the division, no matter general manager
on like paxson when performin’, really gar foreman
underground like where the bulls’ carport is, where’s our portion
most importantly, just eatin’ pulled pork and cheese
immense in mental, but give me a fork at least, made corpse from beats
downcourt corzine, don’t support the corporate beast
in this sport it’s most imporant you never forfeit or leave
uh, horace grant in the muthafuckin’ key
bring the doubleteam and i’ll bust it out to steve
punch you in the spleen, stuff your gut like butterbean, drunk on lean
if i do it i only do it abundantly
front court, fastbreak with the wings flared
madison and damen, we got those rings there
now we goin’ down the lane like ringbearers
born with the pen, my skill’s INKherent
see derrick- that’s my muthafuckin’ nigga
we settin’ off-ball screens ’til luol cuts like scissors
chicago runs it religious, throw the suckas in the river
and still, fuck the bucks and the sixers
