Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song DIABOLICAL, artist - SlayterDate of issue: 05.11.2020
Song language: English
DIABOLICAL |
| Yeah, you could hate me now, pssht |
| Bitch nigga, cold game, chyeah |
| I might just dock off in the hill with a model bitch (Rrah) |
| Popped a half a thirty, shorty threw it back and I demolished it (Facts) |
| Asked about you in your hood and they told me you was not legit (Pussy) |
| We the last of a dyin' breed, I hope they acknowledge it (For real) |
| I hope that when I go I’m remembered (Ha, for real) |
| I got a heart full of anger (Damn), poppin' Percocets like I’m injured (Shit) |
| Nigga tried to rob me, that was way back in September (Way back) |
| So I held the AK to the sky like it’s Simba (Frrp) |
| We ain’t have no heater, it was cold in December (Bah) |
| Coldest day in the winter (Bah), dropped the top in the winter (Chyeah) |
| We ain’t got not time for fuckin' hidden agendas |
| Police run in the spot, we put the drugs in the blender (Rr) |
| 20/20 vision, tunnel vision, ain’t no competition (Grr) |
| Niggas used to call us them magicians, we made shit go missin' (Yeah) |
| Used to post up in the dirty kitchen, Slayter water whippin' (Whip, whip) |
| We was out here doin' other shit that we don’t gotta mention (Shh) |
| Lil' bro just got sentenced for four, he got caught with a weapon (Blatt) |
| Shoutout to the girl I’m fuckin', now she brings me other women (For real) |
| Know some niggas that can’t wait until the day they catch me slippin' |
| Feelin' diabolical, but I’ma send those boys to Heaven |
| Yeah, look |
| My plug did a lot for me, Black Soprano, Monopoly |
| A nigga catch me slippin', that probably be on the hockey rink |
| Bad bitches flock to me, obviously |
| I put up thirty K and get ten of y’all hit, that’s just a wash to me |
| My nigga spinnin', made a masterpiece with half a ki' |
| Me and gang fuckin' Russian models all fashion week (All fashion week) |
| Shoot somethin', then get back to me |
| Where you rappers get the audacity to even send a track to me? |
| (Who, you?) |
| In the restaurant, let it hit me and Slayter (My nigga) |
| Took the money out his pocket and gave the tip to the waiter |
| This the youngest with new guns and old heads and gators |
| And for niggas like who survived without a label |
| Back to the basics, though, paper all we knew, grindin' all we do |
| Ice from my watch drippin' in this 1942 |
| The plug told me I was fearless and y’all just be spooked |
| You gotta spend at least a dub just to call him a deuce |
| Celebratin', we gon' pop these bottles all we want |
| .40 on me, smokin', this gelato .41 |
| Before this rap money they dope encouraged us, nigga |
| Still got a stash house back home with no furniture in it |
| THE BUTCHER comin' |
| Gang with us like Dame Lillard, insane pillars |
| Hustle sold separately, word came with us |
| Rap lane or the trap lane, both lanes with it |
| Whole thing clickin', whole thing flippin' for the pippin' |
| Keep the operation, kill our opposition |
| Lil' punks get hit with the hammer without the clip in |
| Parked in front the crib, abort the mission |
| God sendin' signs, when he talk, I listen |
| One thing he blessed me with was flawless vision |
| I got a knack for eyeballin' those zips, I got an easy system |
| Better numbers to avoid collision |
| Heavy is the head that wears the crown, I play my position |
| You talkin' to the hustlers, I’m a top seed, possibly top three |
| One of the few that break it down for you, probably |
| Kushed God, I’m John Moxley |
| Still move a couple boxes at top speed |
| Claude Monet, I’m paintin' pictures in the form of scriptures |
| St. Thomas, workin' on my jump shot, I was rockin' linen |
| Lots of women, three-story yacht, we was just vibin' wit' 'em |
| Vibes, we hit 'em, back to back Lamb' trucks, we be slidin' in 'em |
| I remember cheffin' ready, rock inside a heavy pot |
| For ten K we had the welly pop day that «Chevy» dropped |
| Hidden hills, model hoes with deals, givin' mega top |
| Popped a pill before they brought the bill, I was hella bopped |
| Uh, I came a long way from sellin' yellow tops |
| Duckin' from the cops, cased up, used to stress a lot |
| Fuck the opps, take this stream money, get a nigga shot |
| Free money, bank scheme money, you know how we rock |
| Lil' bro just punched his whole crib, my nigga pieces hot |
| AKs, .40s wit' the drums, right at Lisa spot |
| Diva thot, suck me in the car, we don’t speak a lot |
| Creep the drop, Pacific coast highway, bumpin' Speakerboxxx |