(feat. JR Writer And Hell Rell)



[DukeDaGod]

It's Dipset all day.  The Movement Moves On



[Cam'Ron]

New York City, you are now tuned in to America's # 1 station, Hot 97

In conjunction with America's # 1 DJ, Funkmaster Flex

In collaboration with America's, pardon me, #1 independent rap label

Dipset.  And right now I'm accompanied by greatness

Uhh-huh.  My man Hell Rell's in the building, BX borough. Uhh-huh

J.R. Writer's here, you know he's the writer of writer's

Right now, I don't know where Santana's out, he probably in Brazil

Act up homie.  They told us not to stay at Def Jam, we eatin' over there

You was right, put work on they block.  Sell more than they sell

I feel you.  Ayo Capo act up.  Do what you do homie. Go ahead homie

I'm waitin in the wings for somebody to act stupid.  I'm right here

You heard. I used to be Jaffe-Jo, I used to be Killa

I think I'ma go with something different this year.  I'ma go with...



[Hook: J.R. Writer and Cam'Ron]

We guerilla breathin', we guerilla breeding

It's the Dips, get the drift, This is Killa Season

Watch him kill the season, Paid checks heavy

It's King Jaffe-Jo get ya tape decks ready

We guerilla breathin', Killa Season

Feel the Evening, Killin' Season

Watch him kill the season paid checks heavy

It's Diplomat Records get ya tape decks ready



[Cam'Ron]

Say what cats did I hang with, slang with, bang bang with

Blain gangsta ganked it left lane to the banquet

Live from the borough where Rich Porter became Rich

Purple Rain in the rain explains it, on that same spit

To the day of a reign, I aim and flame leave a lane

The clips change, obtain bricks, exchange bricks

Bricks exchange, throw the kid some change

Look homeboy, I ain't trying to get no names

Must of sniffed cocaine, lookin' at my Diplo chain

The biscuit turn you to bisquick mixed with shrimp lo mein

Old ladies just stop and say it's yo thang

Can't deny 'em, look down my wrist go bling

Bling bling, listening, come and get some cash

First kiss my ring, ohh no, well kiss my ass

Back in my zone homes, get ya mind right

The 2-3 or 3-2, na it's the twilight

It's the highlights of my life

Every gun, car, crib, chicken-head that I like

Ten on the dope, ten that's beside knife

Ten in the hood, ten that's besides night

And they tied tight, my family ties tight

Ten town 200 bricks, forget 5 mics



[Hook: J.R. Writer]

You gotta feel the heathen, we guerilla breathin'

It's the Dips, get the drift, this is Killa Season

Watch him kill the season, paid checks heavy

It's King Jaffe-Jo get ya tape decks ready

You gotta feel the heathen, we guerilla breathin'

It's the Dips, get the drift, this is Killa Season

Watch him kill the season, paid checks heavy

It's King Jaffe-Jo get ya tape decks ready



[Cam'Ron]

That's 1 and out, let's go, let's keep it movin'.  That's 1 song

I mean let's go, you wanna get... I mean Hell Rell you ain't say nothing that song

Let's go, Let's go.  I mean that's 1 and out.  That's 1 song down

That's heat rock.  Let's go.  I'ma step out.  J.R. lace 'em up

I'ma come back in a minute.  Ya'll get busy

Alright we got this man (Hell Rell).  Let me hear a hook on this



[Hook: J.R. Writer]

It's kinda hard to doubt that we ain't a slaughterhouse

Dip radio you're now tuned in to the Hardest Out

Slash the first to ride, you ain't never heard of fly

Have you mourning, nicca my G's is certified



[Hell Rell]

I slow flowed y'all to death

These hustlas actin' like they coke hard to stretch

Any broads wantin' me to put cash in they purse

Like they wrote half of my verse, nope

I give a few some credit, Dipset  ya dude bring my cash on a verse

Plus I hold a welfare card cause that's how I work

I'm bout to buy a Aston Martin, throw you in the trunk

Be at the Funk Flex show with you in the trunk

If they said I couldn't do it, they put me to the test

But I proved to all them suckers I was worthy of success

Teacher said I was a uhh, was wastin' time in her class

It was more like she was wastin' mine, I had them dimes on the ave

Mamma said I was a dead shot locked up in a can

Nope, got it poppin' with Cam, up in a drop like shabam

But why they knockin' that man, cause of the rocks on his hand

Or the Air Forces they'll never see cause they got copped at Japan

Damn, man I know he a gangsta, and he pop his steel

He supposed to be dead or locked up why he got a deal

He was just shootin a uzi, now he shootin a movie

And all his mans startin' to act like groupies

I slow flowed y'all to death

These hustlas actin' like my flow hard to catch

Man Diplomats we the strongest force

On or off the court we ball and ball the sport



[Hook: J.R. Writer]

It's kinda hard to doubt that we ain't a slaughterhouse

Dip radio you're now tuned in to the Hardest Out

Slash the first to ride, you ain't never heard of fly

Take it how you want it coward our G's is certified



[Hell Rell]

Sleepin' high with visions of my enemies

Beggin' for mercy crawlin on the floor like a centipede

Screamin' Rell please don't shoot me I got children

Should've thought about those snotty nose kids when you was snitchin'

But now I'm on a mission, yeah fresh out the kitchen

A stand up dude who only sit when he shhh

You sit when you pissin', dude listen

My talent was God-given, got wise by hard livin'

I Sleep all day, smoke haze, monage women

I spit these hard rhythms it feel like a car hit 'em

So leave that boy a lone can't you see he in the zone

Dudes try to be like 'em can't you see he gettin' cloned

All this blue and this yellow can't you see it in the stones

And yeah we brought them hammers Cam we never leave 'em alone

So move back, I'm poppin off the 4

Heaven let me in because I'm knockin' on ya door

It's Prada on my whores

And na I don't really do to many funerals, but I gotta go to yours

I gotta see the face of a coward

Please man let the homie breathe give me a taste of that power

My chain hate my watch, my watch hate my ring

My jewelry goin' crazy, gotta get some new bling

So all praise is due to Hell Rell it's the new religion

Smack ya girl pop 2 in her ?????



[Hook x2]



[Cam'Ron]

That's 2 and out.  Let's go Dennis.  You movin' slow Dennis

Let's go Dennis.  That's 2 and out good work.  Good work

J.R. you up man.  Hold on.  Stop it.  Stop it

D, I mean, you got something to say.  That's 2 and out

We early.  Koch put that E.P. together.  That's 2 songs

Nuts and dirty (Funk Flex).  I mean c'mon.  I mean excuse me Flex

Excuse me, 2 minutes.  Can I get 2 minutes.  Let's do what we told to do

New York we run this here.  I mean pa listen it's J.R.'s turn

I'ma do the chorus you ready.  Let me get this son.  I just wrote son

Let me see I'ma... It's my turn I ain't get a chorus off yet

I'ma go in first then.  Aiight

That's 3 songs and out.  Let's do it



[Cam'Ron]

My dude ridin, he ridin in Lamborghinis

The oyster mixed with linguini, you hear me?

He's a rida!

All in together, together we gettin cheddar

Yo cheddar we get together, you hear me?

He's a rida!

My dude ridin, he ridin in Lamborghinis

The oyster mixed with linguini, you hear me?

He's a rida!

All together, together we gettin cheddar

You dude's you know better, why?

He's a rida!



[J.R. Writer]

Listen pal, I ain't gotta spit, child you was not as sick

Foul for a while, look my style is anonymous (Anonymous!)

Pound for pound of piff, smile cuz I'm drownin it

Yous a fake G like a thousand in counterfeits

I can show you how to flip that bird

How to hit that curb, how to get that served

Youngin, I'm the shhh, that's word

Yous a prick, fag, herb, you get pimped slapped heard?

Huh, come get wit a rebel, I'll put the kid to the pedal

The clip and the metal, I'm sickenin nephew

Listen here...Your F-in engineer couldn't get to my level

Dipset is forever B, bet y'all remember me

Stretch all my enemies, heckler send 'em three

But, I got a tech that'll get a G

To drop his flag like a ref on a penalty

I'm fresher than lemon squeeze, wrist wrap chill

Pitch black car wit them pitch black wheels

Nice more stash box, big black steel

Leave you at the red light, the kid's that real!

Steppin in his Nikes, freshest in your sight

You ain't never seen these F-in Pella in ya life!

I throw on fresh gear, throw on fresh wear

This is something you will have to throw on next year, Yea!



[Hook]



[J.R. Writer]

Listen scrap believe me, you need crack to see me

I'm a classic, one of your old scratched up CD's

Check my swag it's easy

That you can see I do the damn thing and I ain't Fab or Jeezy

I stepped to the crap wit Weezy

Front of the tenements

Posted up on post, hundred Dominicans

That'll clap you soon as you go to beef wit J

Throw a couple at you once they hear Dida Le!

Putcha brains all across the pavement

You niggaz singin like you singin how you talk to agents

But drop my name, and I'ma stop

Throw in a box like some caps at a hop-scotch game

I cop drops mane, come peep what I whip whore

A 62, got it jumpin like a 6-4

Soon as I hit tour, brrr, caught a chill

Sleeves on freeze, add up to a quarter mil!

I'm bout to talk my deal, that's what a thug about

Killa, hate sharing, tell 'em I need another house!

I dig ya motha out, then put her in a cab

Gas her up then hit the hooker wit them slabs

What you think?  Naw I ain't a rookie wit it fag

She'll have to boof that in a cookie like a pad

You rookies are just mad, you can't say shit to me

You gotta get ridda me, I'm bout to make history



[Hook]



[Cam'Ron]

I mean, hold on, that's three and out, hold on

Don't even play yet put that on pause B

New York City, we gonna take a slight intermission

because if you do this up here, you bitin

We knocked three songs out.  You can only do it in one take

That means we didn't punch in.  That means I one taped it

J.R. one taped it.  Hell Rell one taped it.  We chorused it out

That means the business is right

The rhymes is right and if you come up here and try freestyle a song

you're bitin (you swagger jackin)

I mean you did a solo song Hell Rell right

that means you repped BX Borough, you repped the Dominicans

I'm 140 and Lennox to the death

So we might as well do something together

Capo get ready to take the motherfu...uh...

Capo take the Mazoratti up to 200, we goin in, lets go

Tape this for Santana when he get back

Let's get 16's off, I got the chorus on this, y'all back up

Let's go, I got the chorus

You ready, New York City we run the motherfuckin building, pardon me

Take it, take it back B I messed up because I'm talking too much

Take it from the top.  Take it from the top

New York, I mean, I mean I know y'all gon home and write hard tonight

I know y'all gon home and write hard tonight



[Cam'Ron]

Ya'll Diplomats, y'all kickin this chicken scratch

What you can't g-get wit that, homeboy go flip a pack

Dip-Dip-Dip-Dipset!

Dip-Dip-Dip-Dipset!

I said It's the Diplomats, what y'all kickin this chicken scratch

Ya'll can't g-get wit that, homeboy go flip a pack

Dip-Dip-Dip-Dipset!

Dip-Dip-Dip-Dipset!



[J.R. Writer]

Listen, I'm worth a couple figures, always hurtin all these niggaz

That I'm OC, tryin to stuff the purple in the swisher

Convertible just picture, how I swerve up on your sister

Wit a dance, tip dance that'll turn her to a stripper

Ya the burner by the zipper, burn em, turn 'em to a pisser

Shit 'em mister in a river, you gon learn that I am sicker

Determined to be bigger, birds I serve 'em to these niccas

Call the cops, they ain't seen these type of murderers since Hitler

Shit if I know em, I'm quick to expose 'em

Wristery frozen, reason why your chick on my scrotum

I'm lifted and potent on some shit that is potent

Fresh out the pot, 2Pac couldn't picture my rollin



[Hook: Cam'Ron]

I said It's the Diplomats, y'all kickin this chicken scratch

Ya'll can't g-get wit that, homeboy go flip a pack

Dip-Dip-Dip-Dipset!

Dip-Dip-Dip-Dipset!

I said It's the Diplomats, what y'all kickin this chicken scratch

Ya'll can't g-get wit that, homeboy go flip a pack

Dip-Dip-Dip-Dipset!

Dip-Dip-Dip-Dipset!