Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Really Mean It, artist - The Diplomats. Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Song language: English
I Really Mean It |
| You see man |
| Let’s get off of that lame man |
| Let’s get into what we like to do man |
| This what we do preferably man |
| We bring that powerful music to your table man |
| Killa, let 'em know something |
| Young Guru, Just Blaze, Killa, Diplomats, huh |
| Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Freaky Zekey |
| Hoffa, Dash, huh, Killa, huh |
| Ya’ll niggas dreamed it, I have seen it |
| Body warm, heart anemic (I really mean it) |
| Coke, a nigga steamed it, fiends I leaned 'em |
| Beemer leaned it (I really mean it) |
| Guns, really beaming, rarely miss, what’s really good? |
| Bikes, wheelie and creamin' (I really mean it) |
| I’m a genius, poppadopalis, never leaning |
| On your Zenith (I really mean it) |
| Killa, bury more mutts, they actually all ducks |
| Caddy more trucks, its daddy Warbucks |
| And you Orphan Annie |
| Ma, take off your panties |
| Sea soft and sandy (I really mean it) |
| Yeah, let’s get lost in candy |
| I got lost in Boston, Austin, flossin' of course Miami |
| Reno, Nevada sip pino colada |
| Mama I’m seen on the Prada (I really mean it) |
| I rock more in Phoenix road to glory |
| Seen it, you seen it (I really mean it) |
| The game abuse it, its pain in music |
| But this year, wrist wear remains the bluest |
| I get lame and lose it, beef came to do it |
| Aim and shoot it, flames 'til your brains the fluid |
| Ya’ll just kids, see what I just did, take a couple bars off |
| Let Just live |
| Yeah, now that’s powerful music man |
| You need to pop something and roll something (I really mean it) |
| Killa we did it man, I got your back forever, Dip Set (I really mean it) |
| And them lames, we pop them sideways and drag them faggots (I really mean it) |
| Ok, we back in |
| Mami listen (I really mean it) |
| Hey yo lock my garage, rock my massage |
| Fuck it, bucket by Osh Kosh Bgosh |
| Golly I’m gully, look at his galoshes |
| Gucci, gold, platinum plaque collages |
| From collabos, ghost writing for assholes |
| Want to use my brain, than give Killa mad dough |
| It’s all good, increase Killa cash flow |
| Increase my fame, that’s why Killa smash hoes |
| You’ll get side swiped, look at my life |
| First movie ever, merked out Mekhi Phife |
| And papi got jerked out of pies twice |
| Dip Set, we working with five dice |
| Cee-lo and craps, c-notes and stacks |
| I send bodies with, read this note attached |
| Ya youngin' fucked with boys in the hood |
| Gave her a son like Ricky, from 'Boyz in the Hood' |
| On the couch bloody, old lady sighing |
| Wifey screaming (I really mean it) |
| Pissy little baby crying |
| Fuck upped man shit, there you seen it (I really mean it) |
| Fam man, you terry cloth, that mean you very soft |
| Gravy Mercedes, add the cranberry sauce |
| Yeah, gangstas ride man, Flex we got you, guns up (I really mean it) |
| And all my ladies man, the ghettos a diddy, I need you, I want you (I really |
| mean it) |
| Oh, pop something, roll something, get twisted, that’s on Jim nigga (I really |
| mean it) |
| Harlem! |
| Man we here to stay, it’s nothing left to say man (I really mean it) |
| Eastside, and as for that lame man, now see I ain’t even gone say your last name |
| Cuz that’s mine, I catch you, you know what it is |
| You faggot! |
| I ain’t gone get to hyped over you man, we gone bury you |
| Holla! |
| See if you bout it, bout it |
| Cuz we is (I really mean it) |
| NYC! |