| Yeah, yeah, yeah, c’mon, uh, to the westside
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| Yeah, c’mon, to the eastside
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| C’mon c’mon, to the northside
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| Yeah Fat Joe in the house
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| To the southside
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| WhizOne in the house
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| To my man Showbiz in the house
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| Huh, aiiiyo bust it…
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| Ya see I skip to my loo like Napolean at Waterloo
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| My name is Diamond D, tell ya what I’m gonna do
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| I dip and I dab like a Mike Tyson jab
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| Even though there’s flab I possess the gift of gab
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| I shoot it like a jammy-in
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| Girls, get the panty-ins
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| Even wit a fanny and I might win a Grammy-in
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| Maybe I won’t so I’ll chill like the pope
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| See I’ll neva mope 'cause ya know my shit is dope
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| Like Columbian fish scale, ask my man Ishmael
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| (Diamond D got props like a cop) aaahhhh
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| Or betta yet DT 'cause brothas can’t see me
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| Even ya girl says ya got a small wee wee
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| Now ya wanna go upside her head (What you talkin bout!!!)
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| Then you feel intimidated by the things she said (Yo chill!!)
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| Don’t worry bout it 'cause I paid her back, (you know I)
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| Took her to the rest then I laid her back
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| I go on and on like popcorn
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| Wit da butter, aiiiyaayyaayyayo
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| I used to stutter
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| But I fall on track-in, some may say I’m wack-in
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| Fact, but in fact, I’m not any of that black
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| See I’m the best kept secret
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| So shut da fuck up and peep it
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| Cock d, ***trees in forests???***
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| Rapper tries ta 'cause I crush da muthafucka!
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| Yeah, 'cause I’m the best kept secret
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| So shut the fuck up and peep it
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| Ya see I write my own rhymes, produce my own shit
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| Yeah boy, I ain’t the one ta fuck wit (nope)
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| I’ll take a beat and I’ll flip it
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| Wit so much flava, niggas wanna sip it
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| But that’s cool 'cause they know I got skills
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| Let me demonstrate I you will, ahem
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| Rock is my man and
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| So is Dapper Dan and
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| I’ll shake a hand and
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| Don’t try ta flam
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| Or front like a stunt who wants the cunt
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| I only hit grand slams, neva will I bunt
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| Bases are loaded, bottom of the ninth
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| I step to the plate 'cause I know my shit is great
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| I can’t walk down a street
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| (Aiiyo Diamond, can you make me a beat)
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| Ya gotta have cheese
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| About a couple o' g’s, huh
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| But if I know ya, I might just throw ya
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| A li’l somethin on the side troop
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| A funky bass line and a hype loop
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| I got a thousand old records in my crib
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| I used to hustle but I neva did a bid
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| Some people call me Jo Jo
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| I keep a low pro
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| Non-stop props, so act like you know bro
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| Pass me a mic and I’mma keep it
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| Yeah boy, I’m the best kept secret
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| Yo, I’m deadlier than Michael Myers
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| My style will embrace you like a pair of pliers
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| But don’t sweat it G, why don’t’cha let it be
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| 'Cause Diamond D is a pedigree
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| In other words I’m official
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| I neva go out like a wet piece of tissue
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| Ruff and rugged
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| Stronger than Bounty
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| New York is the city, Bronx is the county
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| Learn from the best so the rest just fest
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| Now I’m gettin booked at the Philmore West
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| Or either in the village so kill it skillet
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| Ya ask ya’self
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| Will it eva cease?
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| 'Cause Diamond’s sharp as a crease
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| I only use bees wax, I’ll neva use grease
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| On my dreads but instead if you want some kicks
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| Step to the mic I’m an 8 to 1 pick
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| You reap what you sow and I can reap it
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| Yo I’m the best kept secret |