Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dip Da, artist - Suga Free. Album song Street Gospel, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1996
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Dip Da |
This one’s for you baby girl |
That’s right (As we tip toe to the 9−8) |
Lee, my baby, what’s happening? |
We gon dip da through the 9−7 |
As we tip toe to the 9−8 |
As we dip da through the 9−7 |
As we tip toe to the 9−8 |
As we dip da through the 9−7 |
As we tip toe to the 9−8 |
As we dip da through the 9−7 |
As we tip toe to the 9−8 |
Daddy you trippin |
Come here momma |
Momma don’t cry |
No we don’t need my daddy no more |
Old alcoholic insecure punk |
What you hit my momma for? |
Now I got so many personalities |
It’s a shame |
And since pressure can bust a pipe |
I’m relieving my brain |
You ain’t my daddy |
You ain’t my father |
You’re water, Walter |
And my sister Laniesha |
She really ain’t your daughter |
Now my momma got a real man |
Me! |
I remember how bad you treated that pretty lady |
And what you thought was cupid |
Turned out to be |
A violent, itty-bitty, punk, drunk, punk |
With a bow and arrow |
Just like you, stupid! |
And knowin everything I rap about is true |
But the cold part about it is |
I got half this shit from you |
Now how in the hell |
Did you figure you was gon cross |
That pretty blue eyed-green eyed |
Country voodoo creole female |
Now you reaping what you sow |
Cause I’m ??? |
you |
And my heavenly father in heaven |
Is watching you |
Don’t worry momma |
We gon lay low |
And stay low |
As soon as I get out of jail |
Momma let’s carry on |
You dip da through the 9−7 |
As we tip toe to the 9−8 |
Baby dip da through the 9−7 |
As we tip toe to the 9−8 |
And dip da through the 9−7 |
As we tip toe to the 9−8 |
And all the way from them A-B-C's |
To them 1−2-3's |
To the birds and the bees |
Drinking 40's with OG’s |
Came a group of young fools |
Who was close as close could get |
We sported golf hats and ??? |
Stayed down for the set |
Ready to hoo-ride |
Cause my life is a picnic |
Just one big set-trip |
Snitches and tricks to get with right |
I went to sleep |
To wake up to the same old thing |
My lady, my baby |
No job, just homies ready to gangbang |
My momma tried her best to raise me right |
But still I’m leaving with the homies |
Hurtin her feelings |
Bout to drive her crazy |
She told me every time she hear the police |
She was hoping it wasn’t me in the street |
Somewhere deceased |
Now we struggle to live |
But we living to die |
I see my homies dying one by one |
I wanna cry |
But if heaven’s where your living at |
That’s the same damn place |
Suga Free is gon be chilling at |
I sold my soul for the good |
Cause I don’t want nobody |
Going to my momma house |
Telling her I died in the hood |
So let me slide to the side |
On my tippie toes |
And thank my G’s |
Feel the breeze |
And walk my girl on the beach |
And have a little lunch |
And make a little love |
And kiss her body |
And appreciate the tingly bud |
And to keep it real man |
My freak Angelique |
Just turned twenty |
But when she was six man |
Her daddy was her boyfriend |
That’s right |
Know it |
I’m out here with it |
I see it, know it, gonna tell it |
Momma, I appreciate you baby girl |
And to my homeboys that’s resting in peace |
I can’t see ya homie |
But we still share the same atmosphere |
I love ya, I love ya man |
Rest in peace dog |
Rest |