| People say my theories is backwards
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| I tell them, sincerly, it’s clearly, you hearing me backwrds
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| I tell 'em I’m great, but still I need practice
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| I tell them to wait, go and comeback quick, they don’t understand me
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| It’s not logic, I’m not logic, I got problems
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| I worship the late prophet, the great Muhammad Ali
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| For the words that he spoke, that stung like a bee
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| Soaked into me, you niggaz will see but
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| I’m still insane, I’m Rodman, dealing my brain
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| I’m grinding sharing my pain, fuck, where is the fame
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| Niggaz, they still rhyming, still in the game
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| They still dealing the cane, still cock shit in your brain, homie
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| I still smell the rotten people that lay
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| There in ground zero, forgotten, left in for days
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| Probably left there to stay, left in decay
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| Broken pieces of towers, left in their graves
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| I pray they be saved, until then, that’s just a suggestion I made
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| Follow me homie, listen, I subjected my ways nigga
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| Weapons that spray, at your fucking face nigga
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| It’s Santana the great, in the place niggaz, stay away nigga
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| Cause I’m headed straight to the top, niggaz
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| Diplomat Taliban slash ROC nigga
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| Oh yeah, I do this for my block niggaz
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| D train, Al Gator, pop niggaz
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| Young drugs, young twins, Shiest bug
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| Niggaz I love, my thugs
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| Now, come fuck with your boy
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| Jones, Killa, Freakay, come fuck with your boy, WHOA
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| It’s Santana again nigga, no bandanas just him nigga
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| In the flesh, like
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| I seen it time, business and friendship
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| Friendships ended, business attended, clips get extended
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| Lawyers get called, accountants get faxed
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| That was my man, well I wish that he meant it
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| It’s been a long time, hereing the mobsters
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| This ain’t overnight, it’s years in the process
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| Shed a tear in the process, now process is over
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| All my niggaz get prepared for the Oscars
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| Back to the block, sharing a lobster
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| Morris Malone, Sam Malone, preparing the vodka, holla
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| Hallejulah, no hum-du-allah, but respecting my Aki
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| He held me down, when it was getting real rocky
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| Hustling, isn’t a hobby
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| I sit in the lobby, look at my ovie, have visions of Gotti
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| Visions of lotties, pictures of Blood, scenes of L
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| I wanna see my son, piss in that potty
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| Jimmy, I’m going to make sure your wrist is real rocky
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| See my plans are for long term like Mr. Miyagi
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| Wax on, wax off, put our wax on, take that wack off
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| Over some nights, I had fights over the white
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| The roads to the lows, I knows what it’s like
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| Now, career over like Mike: anyone
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| Tyson, Jordan, Jackson, it’s over
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| This shit right here touched my soul, man
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| My grandmother or something, 56 bless her soul
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| Apartment 56 that is, 101, West 140th
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| Rest In Peace Liddiah Giles, Blood Shed. |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song I Love You , by - The Diplomats. Song from the album Cam'Ron Presents The Diplomats - Diplomatic Immunity, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп