Mag - Dimes&Nicks lyrics

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Mag - Dimes&Nicks lyrics

[Verse 1: Ish Darr] The ish Just stepped in They asked , why he k** beats They say thats just him Matter fact he gotta brother n***as look like twins Together they raise hell Dont upset them I'm the coolest and you knew this Little n***a be the rudest Temptation is a b**h So i look out for all the Judiths On the road to the riches Dodging the n***a Judas Even your close ones A do you in like the n***a Brutus Im that go getta Dough flipper, clothe switcher Cold n***a Prolly TYB if you riding Ya flow bitter Bitten , cause you been biting Off what you hear, with ya ear Like Tyson Illuminati they eyeing These young black tyrants He fly, like Eli's Pig skin to a giant All this excitement Cause J dropped his hyphen Yall get a piece of his check? Aww iight then [Hook] Dime bags Nickle Dope sh**2 x3 Got them higher then the pope On that dope sh** Dime bags Nickle Dope sh**2 x3 Never get high on your own supply [Verse 2: Boodah Darr] Dope sh**, oh sh**, stay a float sh** Sentimental, on some realest sh**, I ever wrote sh** k** his album, drop it in the bottom of the ocean His girl yell my name like promotion, now im soaking In her bathtub, get the rubber ducky and a loufa Beads round my neck like Mansa Musa, im so elusive You hear them drums n***a, you hear that baseline Mac with me, I ain't talking apple wen we face time Game time, court side, while im balling, sh** is awesome Black gloves, black mask, gold tec, black coffin Dropping bombs like im in iraq, prayers go to Boston Beat him like M.Bison, then we rolling up that Blanka Running them over like a Tonka, supersonic, getting that tail I can tell, you n***as ain't real, just by the way that you carry your self We so Ill, dope sh** falling from our bottom lip Nappy headed pharaoh, what I look like using a pick? [Hook] Dime bags Nickle Dope sh**2 x3 Got them higher then the pope On that dope sh** Dime bags Nickle Dope sh**2 x3 Never get high on your own supply