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(feat. Armaggedon, Big L, Fat Joe) |
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[Fat Joe] |
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Diggin In The Crates 9-9 |
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Don Carta bomb harder |
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Uh, still diggin ya'll |
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Yeah, Big L, yeah |
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Yeah, there's only one way for me to explain |
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The key to this game is longev, keep it the same |
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The seeds'll remain, only if they bringin the pain |
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Hip-hop won't stop like the heat in my veins |
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The streets know my name, Don Carta bomb harder |
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My persona is honored in the Bronx as my alma matter |
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I'm smarter than the average Joe, packin a flow |
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That's stackin the dough, bring the triz in the bag and let's go |
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It's Fat Joe, I'ma set it straight |
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If you do your hist. I exist through Diggin In The Crates |
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Bringin in the ace, had to stay up late |
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Playin the corners but never seen a day upstate |
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Til the day I escape or see Tone at the pearly gates |
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I continue to run shit even after the computer breaks |
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You know the rates, fifty-thou for every verse that's foul |
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As I bring rhymes to life like the birth of a child |
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[Chorus: Armaggedon] |
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We all self-centered, it's our world you just in it |
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Check the VIP part of the club, flooded wit women |
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Push a plush tinted truck wit thugs in it |
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You never catch any one of us broke wit no dubs drivin the limit |
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It's our way of life, you in the game better play it right |
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Buy a house wit only my chains, so playa name your price |
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Fly nigga, since we was crawlin, you can ask our pops |
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You ain't really ballin wit that, so nigga pass the rock |
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[Big L] |
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Check it, my whole crew holdin |
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We all got rides wit extra features |
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It's a bunch of ya'll, one got dough, the rest is leeches |
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You probably mad cuz I be sexin divas |
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I should pull this pistol out and make you touch your sneakers |
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I'm on some cool out shit, but I will pull this tool out quick |
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And put some holes in your new outfit |
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You frontin hard cuz you whip a Range |
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But it's a 4.0, you nerd nigga, you heard Jigga now get your change |
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You ain't a willy you a small soldier |
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Give it up son it's all over |
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And you never sold a, pound of cane |
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You a clown wit fame, goin down the drain |
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All yo' shit sound the same |
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I'ma shine pop-o, cuz when you got dough your rocks glow |
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L got a hot flow that rap coppo |
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I'm Uptown's smoothest, my first album left you clowns clueless |
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Sayin I'm wack, you niggas sound foolish |
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Niggas hate to see L bubble, they'd rather see L struggle |
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Cuz what they sell, I'ma sell double |
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You wanna see rocks, then look at L's wrist |
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If you see me in the club drinkin Mo' that means they don't sell Cris, what! |
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[Chorus] |