Diamond D - Do Your Thing lyrics

[Intro: Diamond D] Woo-wee, yeah, huh For the 9-5 All the way in live Baby Pa word up Got my homie gotta feel it [Verse 1: Diamond D] Do you knowledge See I'm just like Shaq, I put it on, bump it Quick to disrespect a hunky Excuse me Jesus Christ, I'll squeeze it tight And send a n***a home to his peas & rice Back up, you gonna need stitches When it comes to b**hes, I stretch 'em like three wishes I'm sh**tin' on n***as like a pigeon in a [?] While we smoke them out [?] We feel the herbal essence And make progression [?] That leave me with no exception but to grab the Smith & Wesson I ain't fessin' n***as better practice their rhymes Or heading back to a life of crime No frontin' I get it on like a pimp on 10th With no heart With his chick turning tricks in the cold on the strip Huh! My repertoire up to par for the spar Don't give a f** who you are I grab my dick and head to the back of the bar In a formal cypher with my clique With n***as who talk the girl into cashing [?] On the reg, I'm pa**ing out spankings From [?] avenue all the way out to Franklin Controversy, some girls curse me Others nurse me Record labels reimburse me Aight! [Hook 1: Lord Finesse/Diamond D] Finesse: No jokes allowed (Do your thing kid) Diamond: Gotta move the crowd (Do your thing kid) Finesse: I pull your whole file (Do your thing kid) Diamond: Just peep the style (Do your thing kid) Finesse: Act like you know (Do your thing kid) Diamond: Peep the show (Do your thing kid) Finesse: Check the flow (Do your thing kid) Diamond: I'm out to make dough (Do your thing!) [Verse 2: Lord Finesse] Check it out I don't have to pop tools to stop crews or mop fools I play it cool and smooth, I'm like drop j**els I get props and never fail, hops The stuff I'm deliverin' you can't get in your mailbox I make noise, I scrape toys People think they down with Diggin In The Crates C'on they just play boys I show you what hype is It's time to get paid, f** that It's only right kid I'm so bad with the vocab That's only part of it, now let me school you on the whole half I'm no stranger, more like danger Like playin' russian roulette with 5 bullets in the chamber I get more props, I'm raw, hops With the sure shot that's guaranteed to make all you girls' drawers drop Ladies think I talk fine cause I sport rhymes I'm livin' righteous while you fight like f**in' pork ribs f** around watch that a** get sporked Your rhymes are prehistoric like them dinosaurs in Jura**ic Park You'll get rip like a card [?] Because you watch gangster flicks and write rhymes don't mean you're hardcore I'm so divine when I flow on rhyme, yo I blow your mind When I got for mine, C'on n***as know the time It's the creator of the better songs Peace to Diggin In The Crates, made the crew live forever on [Hook 2: Diamond D/Lord Finesse] Diamond: Pa** the mic (Do your thing kid) Finesse: Got the style down tight (Do your thing kid) Diamond: sh** sounds hype (Do your thing kid) Finesse: It's only right (Do your thing kid) Diamond: I'm out to make papes (Do your thing kid) Finesse: I got to set 'em straight (Do your thing kid) Diamond: Got moves to make (Do your thing kid) Finesse: 'long with Diggin In The Crates (Do your thing!)