Lyrics Daily Duppy - Part 2 - Digga D
Yeah,
yeah,
yeah
Blue,
blue,
blue
HONEYWOODSIX,
blue,
blue
Look,
yo,
blue-woo,
blue-woo
About
ten
for
a
show,
come
correct
Show
respect,
40
for
a
feature
I'm
the
hardest,
what
did
you
expect?
(Yo,
pay
that)
I
had
hitters
on
the
wing
but
I
still
made
a
ching
Fuck
my
future,
didn't
think,
I
just
cheffed
his
neck
(I
got
payback)
Spent
40
on
my
car
too
Woulda
spent
more
if
my
insurance
let
me
pass
through
The
other
day,
I
was
lookin'
at
a
Lambo'
truck
In
the
showroom,
with
my
rambo
tucked
Sha
said
cut
my
hair
and
go
back
to
the
fuckboy
trim
(nope)
Far
from
a
fuckboy,
you
know
I
bust
my
spin
(dun'
know)
I
take
L's
in
the
field
but
I
got
more
wins
(yup)
Shot
a
tape
for
half
a
milli'
and
I
bought
more
tings
(yeah,
yeah)
This
rap
shit
bringin'
more
bit
shots
(more)
Bangin'
Buju
Banton,
two
bricks
copped
(both
of
them)
Before
rap,
it
was
fawners
and
corners
Some
used
a
phone
box
so
I
answered,
no
callers
Mum's
life,
let
my
gun
rise,
I
get
busy
So
much
guns,
I
had
to
share
some
with
killy
(kind)
Ask
them,
so
much
guns,
man
run
out
of
places
to
park
skengs
Two
peb
phones,
man's
renting
them
a
rack
a
week
each
Only
'cause
they
keep
interrupting
my
sleep
And,
bro,
I
want
my
little
brothers
to
eat
But
yo,
I
ain't
givin'
them
a
handout
(nope)
When
I
needed
a
hand
in,
who
brought
bands
out?
(Who?)
There
we
go,
you
hear
me,
bro
I
named
a
.44
long
merry-go-rounds
Only
one
will
turn
your
head
into
a
cheerio
Right
wrist,
20,
left
like
60,
basically
70
And
I
don't
like
girls
my
age
unless
it's
Maya
or
Tennessee
The
rest
in
the
U.K.
just
look
dead
to
me
So
I
fly
the
foreigns
in
(yup)
Smash
same
day,
I
forgot
they
had
to
quarantine
(14
days)
And
I
got
shooters
on
my
team
(yup)
Bait
guys,
left
five
shell
casings
on
the
scene
(woi,
woi,
woi,
woi)
You
ain't
never
had
to
watch
45Hickok
(yup)
Had
me
feelin'
like
a
nigga
got
ripped
off
(nope)
But
I
was
using
wrong
shells,
I
was
buzzin'
Cah
I
never
had
the
name
at
the
side
of
the
somethin'
I
grew
up
listening
to
Cowboy
and
BP
(killy
niggas)
Then
it
turned
to
Little
Reese
and
Chief
Keef
(Chicago)
14,
really
in
the
streets,
knees
deep
Puttin'
four
bills
down
and
that
was
each
week
(yeah,
trappy
wit'
it)
More
opps
gettin'
chatty
wit'
it
I'm
just
gettin'
slappy
wit'
it
Na-na-na-na,
na-na-na-na,
nah,
I'm
gettin'
Dappy
wit'
it
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