Lyrics:
turn on the screens, baby
Seven figga team, baby, Houston's bomb is back
DTS be the Lac, we signin' Shaq contracts
Ninja bikes with blue lights, we
damn lips, or there be mixture of blood and dandruff
If you don't get my damn drift
Creep to ya grave and leak DT Piss
This is yo highness at his less
Traded in the trucks for a silver drop top
Drug money flowin'
Jealousy is growin'
Paranoia got him second guessin'
D-T's on his back got him stressin'
Kamali all over her body, she used to that
Potnah big 40 had it like that
Cadillac sittin' on buttons, 32 valve
The DTS half a gallon to the mile
Platinum
D.T.'s rushed the party in 2K
Buck - The Beef be - fled the scene right before the cops
And the Swats came with the triple beam
Uh, shit is real you
'na chodladh go smh.
Oche chiin, oche Mhic D,
Aoir ar dts chuala 'n scal.
Allelia aingeal ag glaoch.
Cantain suairc i ngar is i gcin.
Crost
signed to grand hustle
I'm for sure to ball
I say we be the freshest jewlery be vvs'n
Caddy be dts'n like Khaled shit we the best
And I tell them hoes I
with law they
Cross that line get fucking knocked
But I don't get mad I just get paper
See me fresh in DTS laughing like hi hater
I tap on the gas
an Aleve
It's still all on you, like volume 2 BG
See me DT in a GT
Downtown as I'm G nice in a fresh white tee
See I'm a gangsta, you a wanksta
I'm
got him second guessin'
D-T's on his back got him stressin'
He was at the light blazin' up traum
Around the corner came a tinted out Yukon
Ten slugs in
Delhi
The day the new Viceroy appeared?
You know, they say that young Lees
Has a girl with D.T.s
And his hopes of promotion are slim
Well, according
confessin'
Like a DT, left in state of depression
You under pressure, in tag, no doubt catcher
The snitch-snatcher, shooken with asthma, you Casper
You
The Pope and John F. Kennedy were starin' in me face.
Suddenly it dawned at me I was getting the old D.T.s
When the Child o' Prague began to dance around
hey-yo,
I don't kick or throw stars, this brother flows
to the funk track, with 808 drops for prop the top
of druggin' or thuggin, D.T.s or cops.
man fully strapped and I quote
Don't flex, last chump who did, he got smoked
Undercover, not D-T but E-D
And wonder why you're spinning my records
confessin'
Like a DT, left in state of depression
You under pressure, in tag, no doubt catcher
The snitch-snatcher, shooken with asthma, you Casper
You
lookin’ like it’s fuckin’ Mardi Gras
My top down, seat way back
Don’t respect the squad get your face cracked
DT young is kinda bad, that’s why you stay
boss
SK for dinner and forget to floss
Kidnap a DT, tie his ass to a cross
Run a Cartel like a real Rick Ross
Sure runnin' like I'm heavy hardcore
Delhi
The day the new Viceroy appeared?
You know, they say that young Lees
Has a girl with D.T.s
And his hopes of promotion are slim
Well, according
(sniper)
A blue range rover, he says pull over
I didn't know he was a DT undercover
I screamed out my lungs
"This is discrimination!
What's the charge?"
He
Rohann..."
"Uh-huh"
"Who used to sell bang"
"Uh-huh"
"DT's found his hand in the back of Bennigans"
"What?"
"In a plastic bag with a note attached"
"Saying
you the gun, run and hide
So when the DT shows up, he thought it was a suicide
(Suicide it's a suicide)
Mucho trabajo poquito dinero
I'm sellin'
you"
"Hey yo, your cousin Rohann..."
"Uh-huh"
"Who used to sell bang"
"Uh-huh"
"DT's found his hand in the back of Binnigans..."
"What?"
"In
his mama to the feds
Little brother, big brother, Sada got the dreads
DZ, DT, Sada keep the bands
Lil' bitch can't keep her pussy out my hands
Got
Discuss these DTS Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In