D.I.T.C.

D.I.T.C. - Foundation songtekst

Je score:

Yo, yo, yo ..



Chorus: [Diamond D]

We love the foundation, time to lock shit

Ladies look no more we got this

D.I.T.C. spits the hot shit 

And while you busy poppin' shit we're poppin' Cris

Ain't no stoppin' this like, ?

See it's all laced out wearing rocks and shit

On the set niggas start to cockglocking shit

Hating when we come through ya metropolis



[Dimaond D]

I like the finer things in life, rings and bikes

Expensive whips, first-class trips

Seven days cruises, honey don't trip

Excel class if ya heard room fit

Platinum cars, givin' no credit to me

Tiffany labs, ?

H-class minerals with no floors in it

Be one two, with the windows all tinnit

And I be all in it, for Tommy Hil' send it

Everything is paid for, mami not rent it

Two albums deep, it's all documented

Y'all little monkeys gon' see in a minute

Look, G-O-L-D in a minute

'Bout to double that, in the Benz bubble black, hata !

It's Di-a-mond D on ya set

Throwin' all G's and charge a jet



[O.C.]

I'm doin' time in the rap game

Sorta like a beered up North all one and the same

My slang keep comin' steady num in ya brain

Like substers abusin' lies for cocaine

I get ya open, my stuff be pokin'

Two pulls a past for three niggaz smoking

It's no joking when it comes to this

On occasion I might pop a bottle of Cris'

With a wrist full of ice on the bracelet

Trade rhymes in for cash, money I stash

For the future, treat more wis' than Peter Luger

For lyrical fitness I train with ?Luke Luva?

Incorporate lyrical bust with fist to custwit style for a million bucks

For this I got love, not lust

If I lay her down with no fear than it means I wanna fuck!



[CHORUS]



[A.G.]

My flow, be sicker than yours

Hoes, bounce gimme some mo'

Wanna rap with me? Then gimme some dough

Wanna track from me? Then gimme some dough

I sport those type of flows that excite the hoes

That's my ice that roll and light the dro'

Love is love, y'all niggas gettin' sheisht with yours

Diamond beats hittin' harder than Tyson blows

I might explode, once I grab the mic and blow

Claim you don't like the flow, when you want to bite the flow

Pop bubbly, catch me in the club playin' Bugsy

Get Dirty like ?, it could get ugly

I rock mines and cop top of the line cars

Then charge you twentie-thou', only drop nine bars

Slight the tight men, cop about nine jars

To trig or tone come home while we rap when you behind bars



[Lord Finesse]

Niggas is finito, when my and my peeps blow

Name it the game, stack dough and keep blow, fo' sho

We straight, better see yaselfves

We seein' more chips than the ?

On a club night we hillin', watching the thugs fight

Iced out, nigga shining like flug-lights

Rolling with grimy niggas, dirty like mud-fights

Throwing it up, while you sipping on Bud-Light

Steady balling, why you stop the thing

Blind you with rocks and links, make ya drop ya drink

On some slick shit, dress-up dip shit

Floors with rocks and stones you don't mind getting hit with

Don't sleep, me and my crew's deep

Whether in the air, on four wheels or two feet

Salute the new chiefs and the feel we stay thirst

Fuck freestylin; nowadays you pay first



[CHORUS]
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

Deel je mening

Dit formulier wordt beschermd door reCAPTCHA en de Google Privacy Policy en Servicevoorwaarden zijn daarbij van toepassing.

0 Reacties gevonden