| It go, ta-ta-ta-ta-tah-tah
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| Ta-ta-ta-ta-tah-tah
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| That’s how it sound when I walk in
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| Ta-ta-ta-ta-tah-tah
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| The floor light up, I’m with Billie Jean, nigga
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| Look, we the Dips, Freekey, Juelz, where Capo at?
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| Y’all just dip salsa, where the nachos at? |
| (Where?)
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| In the jungle, same place they killed Pablo at (Pitiful)
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| We handle beef with shells, that’s a taco fact (Chyeah)
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| Pulled a gun on Zeek, he say, «What y’all gon' do with that?» |
| (Fuck is up?)
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| They shot him, he smiled, they said, «Who is that?» |
| (Who's this?)
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| Understandin' niggas ain’t understand my vision (No)
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| Now the Panoram' surround Cam, pardon my mannerism (Hello)
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| Excuse my hand, two hunnid inside the band
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| Don’t look directly in it, you’re bound to get a aneurysm (Death)
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| Crib in Florida (Florida), six corridors (Yes)
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| All marvelous, room for the gardeners (Haha)
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| Ah, niggas lettin' the lead go (Pow)
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| Mighta thought he was Drew the way he bled so
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| All on Instagram live lettin' the Feds know
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| Now you inside writin' books, lettin' your dreads grow (Uh)
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| One hell of a run and we still runnin' (Run)
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| The money’s on climax and still comin' (Yeah)
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| When your account start changin', you feel somethin' (Yeah)
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| I used to window shop, now I could build somethin' (Yes)
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| Buy a lot of kicks and love to gamble (That's it)
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| My SUV is the new Lambo (Turbo)
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| Politics is gettin' serious (Haha)
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| Diplomatic immunity, livin' off experience
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| Ayy, let the beat drop, Dipset, D-Block
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| This that straight comeback, no re-rock (Beat drop)
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| Kush got me higher than a treetop
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| Your girl put my dick in her mouth and did the beatbox (Ah)
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| Get her hot, teapot
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| Pockets lookin' like they got speed knots
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| Naughty sweats, Reeboks
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| Fur draggin' like a Ewok
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| Race back to back, look like Star Wars when we speed bop
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| West side to East side, we ride (Ride)
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| No top, gettin' dome, gettin' blown while I breeze by
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| Watch look like I’m tryna freeze time
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| Drippin' water like I deep-sea dive
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| Jeans cost a stack, they ain’t Levi’s
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| Screamin' when we see cops
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| A-B-C-D-E-F you, out the G ride
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| 1942, these ain’t cheap shots (Nah)
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| Amsterdam to Nepperhan, we got the streets locked
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| Niggas shoot the heavy guns, shoot in front of anyone
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| Who lookin' to die when this Henny done? |
| (Who lookin' to die?)
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| I’m hoppin' out this European gettin' in this hooptie
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| 'Cause they let that shit ring when the semi come (Let it ring)
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| They call me David, I wave it like it’s a flag, it’s a mag in it
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| And yeah, I’m squeezin' off everyone (Squeezin')
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| I’m playin' Dip while I dip in the whip (Skrrt)
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| To the set where you slip in the clip
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| They in check, are they gettin' you hit? |
| (Check)
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| I get a check from the shit that I kick (Hahaha)
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| My left hands went in air, yeah, splittin' your lip
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| Need a poppy field like snell, fuck gettin' the brick (Fuck that)
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| L-O-X, we just stick to the script and keep it clique, what
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| That nigga Cam, that’s my brother like my mother’s kid
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| I’m a old dirty bastard but I love the kids (Wu-Tang)
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| I be parkin' foreign cars where the gutter is (Harlem)
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| How you from Harlem, don’t know who Huddy is? |
| (Huddy)
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| And when we got richer than Rich and them
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| So much money that the Feds wanted to picture them
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| Shit, you know Rollies with a dab of ranch (See that)
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| Woulda run up on me if you had the chance (Wish you would)
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| Uh, new condo, four rooms in it (Check my stats)
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| Copped the Bentley truck, there’s more room in it
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| So I could pull up to the club with more goons in it
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| Shit, the Wraith got the stars, I need the moon in it
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| Shit, you come to New York, you know what it is, nigga
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| Dipset, D-Block, bitch
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| Donnie, yeah
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| Ayo, I’m on some other shit
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| Fuck me too, smack your mother shit
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| Clap off, want the same years that my brother get (Facts)
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| Royalty, never broke up, shit is loyalty
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| Contracts, big deals, the money never spoiled me
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| Black nine, black fatigue, lyrically a different league
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| Been high since limelight tunnel, Mr. Seein' Speed
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| D-Block, hood love, gun underneath your chin
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| Holes in your Make America Great hat again
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| A lot of fans, tour bus, more than yours, forty plus
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| Bar for bar, L-O-X nothin' for us to discuss
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| We miss you Pic, you’da told these rap labels to get off our dick
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| D-Block, Dipset, ain’t no other clique, shit |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dipset / Lox , by - The Diplomats. Song from the album Diplomatic Ties, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп