Lyrics I Aint The One To Fuc Wit - Diamond D, Scram Jones

I Aint The One To Fuc Wit

I get a kick, a hat
Then a slap, a snare
I keep a chick on my lap like it’s santa’s chair
Give you daps
Hit the lats
Drop the chandelier
Spit a New York rap
But breathe Cali air
Rub my rabbit foot
Prayed on rabbit ears
Smokin carrot cake kush
Cuttin out of cannabis
Jumpin in the ring
Before the ding you hear
The champ is here
Then I give you two black eyes
Pay the man
It’s all about stunt blocks and hip hop
Stuff drugs in ziploc
Some plug like Kid Rock
The kid rocker
Hit shock of hip hop
Made a pit stop at gridlock
Grabbed a record from the thrift shop
Gimme dat
Diggin in the crates DITC
With two turntables before my MPC
Now I flip the script
Yeah this DJ spit
And I write my own rhymes
Produce my own shit
I… I.I.I.I…I.
I ain’t the one to fuc wit (word)
I… I.I.I.I…I.
I ain’t the one to fuc wit (word)
I… I.I.I.I…I.
I ain’t the one to fuc wit (word)
Write my own rhymes
Produce my own shit
Yeah boy
I ain’t the one to fuc wit (echo)
We don’t quit
Ain’t no place in this rap
We don’t sit
I don’t fuc around with clowns
We don’t grit
Oysters, clams, steaks
We eat those s…
Move in silence
Incognito s…
Lil' man I don’t dance on front street
I left a clown missing front teeth
Who want beef?
Blow smoke in your face
From the blunt leaf
Awwh
Wanna burn me bad
But a bunch of mannequins
Don’t concern me dad
Frontin' only goin' leave you on the gurney lad
Deal with the wrong cat
Earnie Lad
Thumb in your throat
Gun in the tote
Either way smashing your dreams
Dulling your hope
Laughing all up in your face (k)
What’s happening
Laughing all the way to Chase
Manhattan