Dipshits
Federal Reserve, Cam'ron, Juelz Santana
The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com
Never thought they'd see this again Here we go! Killa Cam in the building Dipset! You know what it is My man A-Trak I feel something epic, no homo Man, I'm that nigga, y'all, I ain't even lying I'm running fashion, man, I ain't even trying I see these fuckboys hating on me Been in the crib three years, they still waiting on me But I'm done with the frontin', I'm popping trunk and pressing the button No stunting, I'm dumping and pumping the pump Somethin' to this chump, have him crying like onions With a gun I am gifted, back up before I will happily lift it Popping a cap in the back of your cap Lift up your hat, my astro's malicious Mommy backed up and said she see the difference You're mature, handsome, mixed with a lot of ignance Dick in her intestines 'bout to poke her chitlins Call me 2 Chainz's Drummond, say my strokes are different I'm different, you beating What you doing after this, bitch? I'm leaving Adios, vamonos I f*ck your mama, word to mama, keep your mama close Uh, I know you miss this It's still Dipset, you dipshits Stay fly, don't get your bitch hit Stay gripped, don't get your shit split Uh, still push it and get it off Nigga, we just cut from a different cloth Uh, I know you miss this Still Dipset, you dipshits Man, f*ck a magazine, don't care what you cowards read Don't gotta wonder, we like wonder with our bread Money, respect, don't forget the power, dread Had this one girl squirting like a showerhead Nine on the waist, eighty keys in the trunk Stamp on the dope, eighty degrees of funk Reebok money, eighty degrees in the pumps Lookin' for me? Top floor suite of the Trump, baby 'Cause of stupidity, send fire, humidity No one here is sick of me, got the gift, no Christmas tree Get the shovels, y'all, everyone digging me I'm back to the future, still making history Uh, I know you miss this It's still Dipset, you dipshits Stay fly, don't get your bitch hit Stay gripped, don't get your shit split Uh, still push it and get it off Nigga, we just cut from a different cloth Uh, I know you miss this Still Dipset, you dipshits I feel like rapping on this shit First off, my name is Dame Dash And I want to talk for a second if you don't mind, let me just say one thing: I am from Harlem, and I'm back outside And you know what that means? That means people eat. 'Cause I'm a Harlem nigga, and that's what we do That means when we walk in the room, nobody's safe You 'bout to feel that, pause Harlem sticks together So if you feeling like number one, get ready to be number two, 'Cause we back, what's that shit y'all be saying? Fool's Gold! aight? 'Bout to party, I might pop bottles Might have to see Champagne Dame!
The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com
Written by: Trevor Rabin, Alan White, Chris Squire, John Anderson, Laron James, Oliver Goldstein, Alain Macklovitch, Vaughn Oliver, Cameron Giles, Damon Dash, Justin Smith, Anthony Selvidge, John Roy Anderson
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Downtown Music Publishing, Musicnotes, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Dipshits Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/8164/Cam%27ron/Dipshits>.
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