Cam'ron feat. T.I. - Royalty текст песни

Текст песни Royalty - Cam'ron feat. T.I.



Diplomat vibe for all mo'fuckers
Discursive shit
Killa Cam, Juelz, T.I. let's do this
Yo, yo
Sit back, toss dice in a knick trap
Serve big crack in white T's and fitted caps
These sick reps, this my life you just spit raps
I been a hustler all my life gimme six stacks
Cop my self a quarter kite I can flip that
Cook it 'til its solid white tell 'em hit that
Big fat O's of that solid hard git that
Those like your blow on a boulevard knit sacks
Just as big around as a Tylenol, hit that
Nigga with the Yay tell him now bring a brick back
Now I'ma move it five days, nigga, six max
And ain't no runnin' off with yay shootin' big straps
40 cals, Sk's with no kick back
Get you get your shit sacks right where your dicks at
And I don't think your clicks just supposed to forget that (now)
I gotta a gauge for that day you want some git back
While we sprayin' all you niggas sayin' git back
Duck down nigga, now, what now nigga?
You was talking plenty shit but you ain't tough now nigga
Hey, you don't know the click, I gotta enough wild niggas
That'll hit you then drive you to another town nigga
Dig a hole throw you in it for a half a brick a blow
Man, rappin' and movin' is all you niggas know
(Swear to God) these niggas true fags, certified douche bags
Cha ching, I'm in (what?) bling my rims I sing they spin
But my 2-9 M's, they the ying yang twins
'Cause they skeet, skeet, skeet (skeet), from the window to the wall
From the ceiling to the floor with a feeling when you ball
Make your mom cling, I'm into don things
Don Dom, Donna Karan, Don Cornelius, Don King (yeah)
But follow Jon Gotti, Joe Pesci, armed robbery
Hard body, body hard doggy fuck up your bodyguard
Dolly call us the shotty ma, y'all call up the squally squaw
Prolly hard, get it all the squally in the party pa
Right in the Hammerstein, gasoline, tear gas
Pepper seed, tear fast, knight sticks tear ass
Cuff 'em and chief goes, damn gun that he reach for
Hammer hit with the cheap blow, man its nothing I eat those
Then I piss off my fowl, I lay for it
Car, Crib, credit, A-1 steak sauce
I'ma straight boss, great loft, great Porsche
Golf course, race horse, Aqueduct, Ray Soft
And I make one call to get the pussy poppin'
Call your girl, pop that pussy wanna pussy pop
And a hoochie split it, doogie hit it, booby hit it
Her booby want her back the coochie, play saluchi wit' it
Booby at this thing, damn he all moody with it
She ain't all that in that car I say Suzuki civic
I make a movie with it just to get my point across (then what?)
Dog hand cuffin' god damn join the force (gosh)
Mommy, come join the boss (stick what?) Stick your tongue out and
Toing a toing a toing on my dick 'til your voice get hoarse
Once again I gotta tell you that the boys are coarse
I employ the force, half a mil' on lawyer cost (this, killa, killa!)



Авторы: Byron Cage, Demond Mickens, Darian Mickens


Cam'ron feat. T.I. - Diplomats, Vol. 5
Альбом Diplomats, Vol. 5
дата релиза
03-06-2006



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