The Diplomats - The Pit lyrics

(J.R. Writer) Holla No sorrow haters wrapped in a Tahoe For all those who saw J smash the Apollo yikes All covered in ice like I was standing in Times Square On "The Day After Tomorrow" holla I'm in to bigger dough, sicker flow Rocky dial what make it possible to Rocky-bow hit your hoe I feel like Bigelow 'cause ever since I got the churp number All I been hearing was bleep like the Springer show I got Poppa Al money you got pocket-style money Doggie, these maurie's try a thou' dunny Girl's dropping wild funny Soon as I step in and want to grab on the gator like Crocodile Dundy See I'm the worst round, you'll hit the dirt ground I surf towns in Jaguars that's dirt brown I know it hurt clown, to see me laid in a suite Under sheets, stuffed with more feathers than a First Down Comfortable (Hell Rell) Yo I copped a couple K's for the beef when it goes down I told n***az that they couldn't eat in they own town f** off the strip, for I bust off a clip My time is money I got to get the f** off this brick Follow me around and we'll see the life of a hustler Follow you around and we'll see the life of a buster Beat down, smacked up, robbed every minute And my soldiers, they treat me like I'm God every minute Hot as a f**, but don't get acknowledged enough This is grade-A piff you got garbage to puff And when it come to my rocks get it polished and buffed Same thing with your girl I get polished and buffed A few bricks on the table, I'm smoking by the pound If I don't blow I'm on the next thing smoking out of town I'm sitting on grenades, I'm sitting on some blades Yay, flip it suede fitted sitting on my braids n***a I got gats to tuck and Cadillac the truck I deal with mathematics homeboy and you ain't adding up Two plus two don't equal five I eat the truth but feed you lies you b**h n***a And I ain't ask to come through, man I'm barging out From now on you address me as? (40 Cal) I'm the kid from 140 baby 40 making all the cake My dope like tsunami, I k** 'em off a water weight You play 50 get your story straight n***az up in 50 minus 2, that's ya number due, the 48 Well do the math, the n***a's a problem You broke, ya dead broke when I k** 'em and rob 'em 40, n***az think they can call shots. Y'all ain't got no winds you lost hair like a bald spot You want the Tupac Shakur props? But it's like a disease now 'cause all y'all got is smallpox And that's off top at ya door with 4 knocks 40 catch vicks in they halls like coughdrops Porsche box, school you how to sell the coke-a 'Cause "Diplomat" without the "t" spells diploma Tryna, tell you dolja, the flame in ya a** The game in a smash, 40 keep his name in a stash You the type to go to jail, turn ya name to Shebazz I'm a menace, the O-Dog with the 'Caine on the ave 40