Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The First, artist - The Diplomats.
Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Song language: English
The First |
Aiyoo my Dip Set Taliban, we are not a crew |
We’re more like a movement, more like in tuned with |
The moon and the stars, some say I’ll soon be doomed for them bars |
But I could be caught, pissy clubs, saloons and some bars |
Industry think that they grooming a star nah |
I’m more like a thug misproving the odds, run around my city all crazy |
With my goons in some cars |
I tell 'em |
Wake up, wake up Gotta go get that cake up, break up Divide that payroll, aiyyoo |
Go get that ya-yo, ya-yo |
Killa, paper, holla at Pedro |
On the 8−0 and wait for my son the lay low |
Ba’bro |
When I beef, names will be said tool will be spread |
Two in your head, body be bagged, eulogy read |
Dog in the news will get read, cause what I deal with is usually feds |
On the first |
Aiyoo, aiyoo, aiyoo, aiyoo, aiyoo, aiyoo |
It’s the first of the month. |
Ya-yo, ya-yo, ya-yo, ya-yo-, ya-yo, ya-yo, ya-yo, ya-yo, ya-yo |
It’s the first of the month. |
Now I’m the type of dude, post up sell drugs on your property |
Stone cold hustler, ain’t no fucking denying me I sell drugs in varieties, you want it, I got it You see it, you like it, we count it, you buy it from me |
I’m what the people call a menace to the public society |
Fuck 'em I’m riding, my gun on the side of me Fuck it I’m driving, I’m puffing high as can be |
I’m speeding, I’m weaving, I’m bugging my eye on the street |
Cam signed to the Roc it’s time that we eat |
Harlem’s back, this time it’s for keeps |
You rolling or not? |
The Takeover’s now, y’all focused or not? |
We been ready it’s just that our promotion was not |
But I can’t blame no one for this, I’m all right with that |
Can’t be racist cause I sell too much white for that |
So I decided I’mma milk these crackers for all they milk and crackers |
Until I’m rich and these mills don’t matter |
Uh, you niggaz follow my plot? |
If not, swallow these shots, Santana swallow your block |
I run with enforcers, big dudes and bosses |
Black, British and Walter, the phone call will cost ya' |
Keep rolling in them caravans acting |
We got big trucks with chrome Taliban action |
Send one up to Jabar, my nigga maxed in T-Money's home and he’s never going back in Aiyo, I swear to God, you think I had a violin the way I fiddle triggers |
How you older than me, and still a little nigga |
On the first, I hate these chickens |
Get their check, hair, nails done, steak and chicken, for they friends |
And they kids fly, I ain’t open friend, on the 11th, you gonna be broke again |
Word to Jehova man, hoes in they shoes, barking like a Doberman |
Coming to see Cam, for some coke again |
Shit, it’s the first of the month |
Yo, I’m the first on the block for the cycle |
A rock that is first like shoots from a rifle |
See they tainted our image, it’s fucked up how the game painted our image |
They say we dangerous people, why, because we sell caine to the people |
That don’t be the reason I be aiming this eagle, my aims to get equal |
The first and fifteenth’s got some restraints on my people |
Dip set nigga, Jim Jones, Capo Status |
Killah the don, Juelz Santana, FREEKY |
Harlem, my Taliban |
Eastside, B’s up The first and fifteenth |
We still going through it Welfare, medicade, some liquor stores |
Broadway, 7th, 15th, 40th |
Y’all know the struggle |
Holla |
Roc-A-Fella (Whoo!) |