Max B - You Gotta Love It lyrics

[Intro: Cam'ron] Uh Dipset! 'Fore I set it off O.K. First off, you a b**h n***a Only reason I'm doing this I'mma just name 5 reasons real quick, got a hundred fifty First - you stole Rocafella from Dame Second - you stole Kanye from Dame Third - you stole Rocawear from Dame Fourth - I seen the n***a throw that diamond up before them shots was fired Fifth - hold on, turn the beat off I had to turn the beat off for this You talking bout you a '80s baby You 37 years old, you was born in 1968 and I open the Daily News How's the king of New York rocking sandals with jeans? Open toe sandals with chancletas with jeans on How's the king of New York rocking sandals with jeans and he 42 years old? [Verse 1: Cam'ron] Backup, this one ain't the only one with big wallets Got it, my sh**s brollic, dot it But your publishing should go to Ms. Wallace Honest. Stealing Big sh**, he made 2 albums, you wilding And you can't dress, dog -- who's styling? It was Roc-a-Wear when Dame had it Now you got it, call it co*k-a-wear, heh not in here Dead it pronto, you won't see a car. No Dame and Big b**h for years, now you on ho He own the 40/40 got you in Atlantic City Pitch your budget outta Baseline, goddamn it's pretty You love a Harlem n***a, we get it cooking it's true But now I look we got more dudes in Brooklyn then you Apparently, right? Down in Jeezy video I should've kissed you on the cheek, you a pretty ho And Jaz video you starred in it: Peter Pan I was hopping off the Greyhound: Peter Pan How could he be the man? Ha only reason fam I don't s** dick or kiss a** and I'm consided, damn But we hawk yo, right where you walk bro You can fool the rest of the world long as New York know We put you under ground clown, they gon check the cellars I know he 40 years old, I don't respect my elders I respect the hustlers, plus the grinders and the sellers You's a customer buster, here go jet propellers [Hook: Max B] You got to hate us the way we getting this paper All my n***as are coming straight from minimum wage n***as dick-riding the Dip steady trying to play us But you get sprayed, bust a round we got in his face Dipset - hitting 40 and n***as we toting guns Dipset - this is forty an n***a we from the slum Dipset - pushing 40 n***a you not the one It's k**er season, holla at a n***a cause here it come [Verse 2: Cam'ron] k**a! Let's go Who can f** with me? No mammal, but we tote handles At your open toe sandals, and you look like Joe Camel Off of Rocafella, right? no contact But bust this fly joint they put inside the contract I left the label right, lot of cats wonder how Every time I diss that label I get fined a hundred-thou Just for telling y'all I get fined a hundred-thou Heh them cats are ill, 5 times a half a mil Wars to play, like a bumper sticker smack a grill Paul Wall cap a grill but them cats are daffy dills East coast west coast slang yo cap ya bill Down in Houston ask B I'm a mack for real Hackie tell me, respect, better dwell me Beyonce fiancee, check my 2nd LP I might bring it back, that's your girl, that's your world Had the thing, f**ing singing bout slinging crack Mr. Rocafella stop, stop, stop it fella Still got our acapellas, but I will Akinyele-ya [Hook] Put it in ya mouth uh put it in ya mouth Put it in ya mouth uh put it in ya mouth [Verse 3: Cam'ron] It ain't my fault I'm raw I'm sorry B but I want a war And he stabbed Un over Charli Baltimore s**er for love, hmm-hmm s**er for love k** a b**h, go to trial -- hand be stuffed in the glove I'mma hop in the bed, dog gon' just pop off her head Tell O.J.- Z chill, Cochran is dead [Hook] [Outro: Cam'ron] Y'all n***as don't want it with us man This just round one, 15 rounds B We ready, brake off bluff, professional concert,sell out 25 thousand Acting like you gon diss us You got anthrax over there man, and we George Bush man You on some Saddam Hussein Acting like you got something over there You doing what Ma$e did, you making secret songs man Let it out man, get ready for 15 rounds man And all I did was battle once Everybody getting ready to step to the plate And I'mma step up again and slam, grand-slam yo a** pardon me Dipset! I know you, I know you like that I remember Dame sold you his old pathfinder Chipped in for the GS, you Jaz-O's son Where's Sauce Money at? Where's the like, where they at? I'mma get back to all that, Dipset dawg Round one, let the games begin doggy Haha ain't laughing at ya ugly a** no more YOU UGLY DAWG! YOU UGLY! You ugly man, you ugly My man Un said you look like Fraggle Rock and all that You on outfast n***a? Get back to you n***a n***a OH! [Hook] Oh sh**, yo dude make sure you got them old vocals Bring 'em up real quick (Beyonce vocals) Yup, yup that's her, yup we got 'em