Lyrics Return Of The Diaz Bros. - Tony Touch, Doo Wop, Pain In Da Ass

Return Of The Diaz Bros.

Okay Tony.
listen to me.
See those two guys over there?
Those are the Diaz Brothers
They got the biggest distribution of mixtapes
From New York all the way to Tucson, Arizona
You know anything — don’t fuck with them Tony
They will stick you underneath the fucking ground
Aiy, hey FUCK THE DIAZ BROTHERS huh?
I bury those motherfuckers
WHO THE FUCK is the Diaz Brothers?
You come and step to me?
Hey fuck you!
If you (if you) wanna know (wanna know)
A little story, about the two.
Well let me tell you we’re the Diaz Brothers bitch
And we doin this just for you (what?) yo yo
Said we doin this just for you (what?) uh uh
Said we doin it.
yeah we doin it.
Well, it’s the rap Tito Puente, mirame de frente
Represent my people, 'ju know mi gente
Yeah, everyday all day para siempre
Diaz Brothers, stay caliente
Hot to death, when me and Wop rock the set
B.K.
to B.X.
straight lockin it (yeah)
All y’all other DJ’s be poppin shit
But when we come around the way I do the opposite
What’s the deal with all that hypocrisy?
On the real y’all need to stop jockin we
Like KRS-One, here’s «My Philosophy»
Settin it off, with my monopoly
If it ain’t over, it’s about to be
And it damn sure ain’t nuttin stoppin me
Sangalo, Toca, cantalo
Cri-mi-nal, tremendo escan-da-lo, what?
Okay Tony, you’re going too far now
These motherfuckers will kill you
They’ll cut off your fuckin testicles
And shove it up your fuckin ass
FUCK THAT!
COME ON!
You want a war?
You fuckin wit Pain in Da Ass;
You’re fuckin wit the best motherfucker!
I’ll stick your fuckin head up ju' fuckin ass
Then I’ll molest your fuckin kids.
FUCK YOU!
Yo.
yo yo yo yo yo yo
On some Prodigy shit, chain drop to my dick
No chokers, exotic shit swingin like Sosa
At the Copa, with Tone Toca, opposite of sob-ah
Lots of Henny-lo and Coca-Cola
Blend tape ho Glock tre-eight blowers
Heavyweight holders, got every state sewed up
Niggas broke?
Nah, pockets Al Roker
Budget like Trinidad and De La Hoya
September 18th, Mixtape Kingz walk up in the ring
Grey minks, turntables hangin on links
Poli' with chinks — the main attaction — Wally’s dyed pink
Shirt matchin, thug fashion, Thug Passion
Compliments of Don King, it’s a Don thing
Fuck a drink, still schemein on that charm King
Chill son, put away the toast, make a toast
To the hated most, Puerto Rican «Rae' and Ghost»
Wop and Tone never leavin the hoes alone
And all the hoes never leavin US alone
And Wop and Tone never leavin the chrome at home
In case we gotta put four up in your dome
Take this fuckin shit
You know WHY THE FUCKIN PEOPLE LOVE ME?
Cause I’m FUCKIN REAL!
I tell you what the FUCK’S on my mind, OKAY?!
Okay.
It’s the Return of the Jedi;
Now tell me who the hell said I
Couldn’t bring it to any boriqua tierras
From L.A. back to N.Y. on the red eye
Toca, holdin it down on the M-I
(The M.O.) used to be «Listen to My Demo»
All dem vogue now with no problemo
Before I do a show, have my dinero
I’m talkin to all you pendejos!
Yo.
yo yo
My rhymes get spit like a gajo
My nines get the clips with the hollows
Five carat chips in my Movado
Doo Wop, spic half Cubano
Who copped six and used to have the milano
Who got your main chain vicked at the Apollo
Where Eric B. and Rakim would «Follow, the Leader»
Many nights got my dick swallowed at the Fever
By any white black or Pediqua, Maria, Chiniqua
Had em all player, fucked em and played em
You loved em and date em
Gave em an ultimatum
Talk about that kid Wop, I hate him
So cut him off or I’mma blaze him —
BROTHER YOU’RE SOFT
You come and step to me?
Hey FUCK YOU!
Those guys they fuckin talk too much
All they concerned about is fuckin pussy and drinking
The booze, and the coochie
I got those guys fuckin soft man
They can’t fuck with me
I’ll bury those fuckin cock-a-roaches
FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER!
I DON’T GIVE A FUCK!