Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tribute, artist - D.I.T.C.. Album song D.I.T.C., in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 21.02.2000
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Tommy Boy
Song language: English
Tribute |
| Yeah, umm |
| This ain’t a tribute, you still here, word up |
| You still here, Corleone |
| Chorus |
| I know you can hear me cuz I’m still feelin you, oooh |
| (Feelin you baby) |
| I know that you can hear me cuz I’m still feelin yoooou, yeah |
| Yeah yo |
| If I recall it was Valentine’s Day |
| Me and the misses gettin ready for a night on the town to parlay |
| The phone ring, I check the caller ID |
| Seen your phone number, damn I shoulda answered it |
| If I had the slighest idea that was gonna be our last convo |
| I woulda picked up yo |
| Please accept my apology, I know you’re listenin |
| It ain’t a day that go by without the crew sayin we miss him |
| February 15th, you was judged by the most high |
| I was really mad at God |
| You had big plans, you was about to be the man and I’m |
| Proud to death that you a part of the fam |
| It be a privilege you associated wit us |
| I hope you in a good place where life is love |
| P. S. keep lookin over us, paw |
| Wherever ya at, wherever ya are, love ya nigga |
| Now what’s the deal, dog |
| The tune really got me zonin |
| So I can’t build long cuz it feel wrong |
| So I dedicate this to make this right |
| Rep you to death so it’s Flamboyant for life |
| Missin you, wishin you were here back wit us |
| On this track wit us, but the facts are rough |
| Woulda loved to see you hit it off, that platinum stuff |
| But my dog was layed to rest when the gat was bust |
| You was the man in San Fran, headline in Amsterdam |
| I even seen you put it on in Japan |
| They had to barricade your wake cuz we came in packs |
| To see L, Coogi and specks, wit the hat to match |
| And that was dope, and if he woulda woke and spoke |
| I bet my next royalty check he woulda cracked a joke |
| 1−3-9 live nigga, the hood die young |
| They say the good die young, Harlem fly nigga |
| I know you hear us, L |
| I don’t know how much can be taken by one man |
| Lost you and my grandmother in a five-month span |
| Thought we’d both live to see the golden years |
| Drinkin beer on the sidewalk in foldin chairs |
| If we couldn’t spit rap, we’d live quite fat |
| Playin chess in the park, you know shit like that |
| When we first met, down at Rock and Will’s |
| Knew it wasn’t gon' be a problem to cop you a deal |
| Used to come through the block just to stop and build |
| It was all just a dream but shit got for real |
| When you signed your first deal, you went the slow route |
| You was a bad mothafucker kid, no doubt |
| You had the plan and all, standin tall |
| We stay breakin night at the gamblin hall |
| You know our steelo, we turn street corners into casinos |
| Blackjack to C-lo's, Spades to Pokino |
| We stack notes, played around, cracked jokes |
| Now you a livin legend of rap quotes |
| No doubt, you left a lastin impression |
| That’s why I’m not too fond of people askin me questions |
| Your memories’ll be hauntin to mines |
| Or cats out there who didn’t want you to shine |
| They ain’t know but I knew and you’ll forever be |
| Big L Corleone, Mister MVP, feel me? |