The Diplomats - Get Use To This lyrics

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The Diplomats - Get Use To This lyrics

[Intro] Let's do it man (I'm so bad!!!) I'm in the building [J.R. Writer] Yo, I started the starters, and fathered the fathers who fathered I slaughtered the slaughters, and slaughtered the slaughters who slaughtered I target then spark and Pa you'll be part of this target From artist to artist, J.R. is the hardest regardless Put your faith in his hands, they'll be changing of plans Admit, I did it from standing in rain with a gram Now I sliver and glitter, Jacob throw glaze on my hand sh**! D12, dont even know the name of my band Man I'm just superfly, two for five, bake the bake Eight for eight, eight to eight, wait I'm great, haters hate Cars come to paperchase, I've dealt with major cake Ever since Jake the Snake, all I rock was Babe and Ape's Ouhh yea hun, does them old Air 1's Sneaks crispy, $350, you aint never wear none I'm a pimp girl, get it through your eardrums No I'm not telling you where you can get a pair from I'm sicker the sicker, you sicker the sicker then aint you A picture in picture, just picture this picture I paint you I'm swift the 5th when I grip it, it spit at an angle You'll be stiffer than stiff, prick up sitting with angels I'm just doing me, j**elry, blue in beads Pinch it Pa, it's J.R., hitting hard, soon you'll see Act a fool, we'll take you back to school like truancy So give me my respect, I'm the best, true indeed [Chorus 2x] Excuse the Dip (Please) We moving b**h (Move) We the truth, we the proof, get use to this (Yup) Our movement sick (Yea), your movement sh** (Yea) That's the fact, have a nap and get use to this (Yea) [J.R. Writer] Yo, I'm ice chained, bright rims, nice range, slice cain Cop the pound, chop it down, rock in towns, pipe game I can do a price change (why?), but our pack is crunk I dont mean pa** the Bronx, when I sell you Whiteplain Look J is built, to let the .80 tilt Gun brawl, One call, that'll get you haters k**ed Snap, pop, sprayed and pilt, so friends just chill Look here, I'm end for mills, and I aint talking baby milk When I spray with the mag, you will play in the glad That mean lay in the bag, like some haters that I had Ho's I strip up in rags, serious sh** I aint talking periods when I say p**y stay in my pad I amaze 'em like "Dag", you aint a k**er please That aint no k**er weed, them nick's are filled with seeds I hit the philippines, then cross river seas Whole sea for a week, where I dont feel a breeze So I got Hefner's who*es, with some excellent jaw Like the vet for sure, who want me to s** 'em raw But I asked them more, give some head in the bed Then whoop the chickenhead right towards the exit door Just face it my nig, you cant stay with the kid I got paper, gators, many flavors you dig They just hate how I live, cuz the only time They see me under the wing is when I'm in the basement of my crib [Chorus 2x] (I'm so bad!!!)