Diplomats - Birdcall lyrics

[Cam'ron] Yo J.R. They been waiting for you dawg They been asking You ready? You up motherf**er Dipset, let's go Writer! [HOOK:JR Writer] To all my hustlers, rock smugglers Strugglers, block bubblers, pushers, cookers, pot jugglers What's the word ya'll, flip that erb raw Clap (clap clap) that's the bird call If the cops are coming, get the hopping, running Quick & drop that onion, ain't no stopping young'n Put away that erb raw, let's us know the word or Clap (clap clap) that's the bird call [JR Writer] I still be where the weed flip in the p's with the tree's lit So much water in the order it's just leaving em' sea sick Skeet in my V-6 tryna skeet on a b lips Down low like i'm tryna keep her a secret Acura on chrome, pa**ing me dome Next minute sh** i'm finish she'll be flaggin it home But I always keep a straggler that's known To bone & run to a lap faster than Marion Jones Man listen I still got them grams flippin, tan pitch it Corner to the damn kitchen Gained a couple fans had to make a transition But i'm still in the hood like a transmission No cat can match me i'm pa**ing fastly who's half as nasty? I got it locked from here all the way to cackalacky But keep a mack for scrappy thinking it's just laffy taffy sh** this beat'll be the only thing clapping at me [HOOK] [Lil' Wayne] Bird man JR and J.R. Pigeons know who they are, n***as gotta pay off Snitches know the say all, if chickens on the radar I'm at it cause I get it on my day off ain't nothing like getting weight off (yeah) Scrape off the plates, shake off the flakes Bag daddy make all the cake I gotta lay off the way ya'll hate me like i'm Adolf But ya'll can't see me... Ray Charles I steal who*es, i'll probably take yours Cause you peel off, and I take off Give me no space, what ever I wan't I take What ever I need I bleed & succeed b**h n***a don't breath on the weed, i'm f**ing with them birds withought feeding em' seeds that's green, you don't know about it full clip how I go about it, for body, hard body i'm like God got em', yeah [HOOK] [Cam'ron] Damn homey In high school you was the man homey, that's what a fan told me sh**, same ole cat, get his kangol clapped Brains blown back, dissing Dame, Dame don't rap Shame on black, the game so wack Dame sonned you children From infront of ya building right to a hundred million Dead pimpin pimpin, dead actor doggy Get ya limp off pimpin, if they acting froggy Tell em' back up off me, I come down clap the 40 Cal, that's a badder story, i'm not in my catagory Mess around, Dame held Def Jam down So pardon my back, jackin in em' left hand pounds Red neck found, tech tech pound, duck duck goose Pump pump shoot, shoot let's get down (down) It may seem petty, but we all turn mean deadly For green fetti, my whole team ready [Exit Verse: JR Writer] This ain't only bars and tracks, this is for the hardest cats Flippin all the hard and back, make em' catch a heart attack When u see the narc's attack, lemee know, start to clap (Clap Clap).. i'm outta here A star with a deal, sh** pa be on chill The car is Deville, it's real ill pardon the grill It's foreign my nillz Cruise the city with the semi all silly on skinnies like i'm starving my wheels uh! [HOOK]