The Diplomats (Dipset)

The Diplomats (Dipset) - Street Pharmacist lyrics

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(feat. Hell Rell, A-Mafia)



Okay, Hell fuckin' Rell man

Dipset

Uh-huh, yeah, yeah

Uh-huh, yeah, yeah

Uh-huh, yeah yeah

Let's lock in, what it is nigga



[Verse 1: Hell Rell]

What the fuck B

These niggaz think I'm getting special bread

Cuz my watch stupid, face retarded like this is special ed

And my rims they go ring-around-a-rosie

I ain't the type of nigga you wanna bring around your homies

If he icy, stick him, rob him, slap him, or jab him

Grab the Uze and just ooze him or cock the Mac and just Mac him

Yeah, you know Rell catch a body on it B

Ya know how Dipset do it, bring the party to the streets

And the bitches be like, look at all these cars

Must be outta space, look at all these stars

Damn, now they star-struck, down on they hard luck

Fresh out the shower only way I could be washed up

I tell a hoe, "Yo go powder your face

Ma, I'm lookin' for fiends, I got powder to taste"

And there's still a lotta niggaz tryna be me today

Can't see what I'm doin', must be Stevie and Ray

Yeah (yeah)



[Hook: A-Mafia]

I'm a pharmacist, I move heroin in bricks

40 Gs on my wrist, bitches is on my dick

I heard them 40th niggaz is on some shit

Fuck with A-Mafia and I'ma spray off some clips

I'm a pharmacist, I move heroin in bricks

40 Gs on my wrist, bitches is on my dick

I heard the Dipset niggaz is on some shit

Fuck with Hell Rell nigga and I'ma spray off some clips



[Verse 2: A-Mafia]

Waddup Rell, the black mobster in here, yeah

And all we do is pack choppers in here, yeah

We can get it crackin' or poppin' in here

Or take it back to the scrappin' or the boxing in here

You fuck wit' Maf', blow a shot in the air, fuck the frail shit

I've been free for a while but I'm still on some jail shit

You wanna act big, holla at the kid

I got some gangstas that'll spank ya and push back ya wig

I spit like a split Mike and half a B.I.G.

I used to pump packs but now raps my gigs

Light the water up, light a quarter up

Put 50 up, 100 stack a OZ's, y'all know me

The O.G. who sold keys, only roll wit' them Rollies

We don't fuck with the police

Front on me and they gon' bleed

I know you wonder how I sold 500 thou

And still rap like a backpacker and sound underground



[Hook]



[Verse 3: Hell Rell]

My life is based around traffickin' and violence

I'm young but I'm old school like them African medallions

Troop shoot ya spot built

That shit you talkin' can get ya whole block killed

Believe me, you are not real

I'm buster-proof, you can't do nuttin' to me

Have 100 niggaz in hoodies in ya crib like what's goodie

Yeah, goddamn, all these muthafuckas hate us

I don't take orders, I ain't no muthafuckin' wiater

I'm a boss, so here's my ring, kiss 5 karats

Killing snitches, moving birds, those are my habits

I heard you run a town

And your connect was giving you the run-around

Well here, take my number down

I got coke for days, yeah blow for days

I like to rhyme but I love crime cuz I know it pays

I winked at her cuz I know that dame wit' you

You don't feel what I'm doin', you got Novocain in you nigga



[Hook]
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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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