| We can play now, this is a war, not a playground
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| We came to lay or get laid down, spray or get sprayed down
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| Waterfalls any day now, cops with their wall to wall raid downs
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| I’m ducking and weaving, running and leaving
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| Not trying to feel the cuffs when they squeezing
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| Or the plunger they stuck in Louima
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| So I’m stuck with this Nina, I’m stuck with this finger
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| Itchy as fuck, you fucked up I’ll leave ya, chump
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| Went to school, but ain’t stay in class, hated class
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| Only first period, yep, I could relate to math
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| Played games, but the games is bad
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| You know, cops and robbers, laser tag, see what I was aiming at
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| Hop scotch on niggas faces left my ankles bad
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| That ain’t stop me from working I got me a worker
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| Gotta him to work, and yeah, chopping the work up
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| Keep him on the clock, clocking my work up, niggas know me
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| Taught him how to cook, liven his work up
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| Told him it’s not the pot, it’s the worker, gotta mix shorty
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| Gotta do it like this, shorty (this shorty)
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| Clockwise, counter-clockwise, it’s all in the wrist, shorty
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| Fuck with me (shorty)
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…
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| This is a movement, this is a union
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| This is more than what you people call music
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| I’m part of this Dipset confusion
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| TECs up, we moving, catch up, y’all losing
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| Y’all ain’t big enough to be at the table, nope
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| Y’all ain’t big enough to eat at the table, nope
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| This is powerful music that I bring to the table
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| Sequel to Abel, fuck with your boy, OH!
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| You motherfuckers really don’t know (nope)
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| You motherfuckers really won’t know (nope)
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| I’m real, fucka, I really won’t fold (come on)
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| I kill fuckas and wheelie off roads (yeah)
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| Banshees rappers, like I’m really off road (let's go)
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| The pain I feel, I really won’t show, man
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| The game is real, I really don’t know, Cam
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| If I’ma make it or not
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| But my plan’s to take it straight to the top
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| Bring my fame to the block, with me
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| Harlem’s my home, so I’m making it hot with me
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| 'Til the day I’m layed on the block with shots in me
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| Stay weeded, stay cheifing a blunt
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| Stay losing some more pounds, I ain’t eating enough, nope
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| Stop fronting, homes, you won’t do nothing, homes
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| Killa locked this, I’m what’s up and coming, homes
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| You better believe
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| One thing I was always taught in my household: better achieve
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| No matter what you do, you better succeed
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| That was embedded in me, yeah, the rest was left up to me
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| So I, played my position, I stayed in the kitchen
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| Base dripping off the bottom of the plate when I’m mixing
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| Cake whipping on the bottom of the plate when I lift it
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| Eight digits when I take it, break it and flip it
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| This is the Matrix, I take it we live in
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| Shit, I’m seeing the sun, I’m Neo the one, believe me
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| Hand picked like cotton, I’ve been sent here not to be forgotten
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| My hands grip the dots in, I gets it popping
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| Shoot shit, shit is popping
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| Move bricks get it rocking, y’all know me
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| Ya young homie from the block, y’all forgot me already?
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| Holla back, the young Rocky is ready, whoa!
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| Yeah, come on, okay, uh-huh, yeah, uh-huh…
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| This is a movement, this is a union
|
| This is more then what you people call music
|
| I’m part of this Dipset confusion
|
| TECs up, we moving, catch up, y’all losing
|
| Y’all ain’t big enough to be at the table, nope
|
| Y’all ain’t big enough to eat at the table, nope
|
| This is powerful music that I bring to the table
|
| Sequel to Abel, fuck with your boy |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song More Than Music , by - The Diplomats. Song from the album Cam'Ron Presents The Diplomats - Diplomatic Immunity, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп