D.I.T.C. Lyrics

Album: Unknown

Themes Dreams And Schemes Lyrics

featuring A.G. O.C. Ghetto Dwellas 

[O.C.] 

Even if the Chosen One's frozen inside ice 

I still rise like the spirit of Christ it's all right 

I'm a let you niggas know I'm still nice 

With this voicebox made of gold larynx priceless 

What the fuck y'all niggas thought? 

I done seen niggas sold and bought for what my ancestors fought 

Was taught to drop Jewelz (Word life!) 

You will respect mines or else feel the fragments of gunshot shells 

I will rock well for the rest of my days on this God-forsaken planet 

Splitting niggas wigs like I'm slamming 'em on granite 

Niggas can't manage whether Jamacian, Hatian 

Dominican, white, or Spanish 

Fuck all that freestyle shit, I think shit out 

If it's coming from the top, make sense of what you're talking about 

[A.G.] 

The E&J got me wetter than a nigga hit with a nine Beretta 

Your rhymes is dope, but mines is better 

Let us divide this cheddar, O.C. and us three 

Tighter than niggas that did time together 

It's only right we shine together 

I'm a rhyme forever, while you the worst 

I see it now: I'll be an old cat with a fat verse 

Unless these streets get me first, want a few mil 

But y'all can never give me what I'm worth, we got the flavas 

I'm whipping honey shit, the cherry Blazer, my pen is real 

You feel the blood touch the paper, cause now I know it 

And I'm a blow it like I knew it for years 

Like my peers through childhood 

Was a wild hood, did anything a broke black child could 

Even robbing and stealing, but that's not foul, that's the hood 

Even money knew it when he cracked a smile and passed the goods 

Ayo the theme is to stay sick and have 'em fiend 

The dream is to make hits and stack cream 

The scheme is to get that cash for new trucks 

Ass at the bar for us to scoop up 

The beam, infrared on you, beamed up 

Come out the club, spill bub and scream "What?" 

D.I.T.C. and G.D. teamed up 

Bases loaded, the place exploded, we cleaned up 

[D-Flow] 

Ayo I touch pistol, shine like crushed crystal 

Fuck what I sift through, insane in your membrane 

These cuffs I slip through, when I bust, trust I won't miss you 

A killer like Kam, I send your whole fam with you 

Addicted to Dro, sipping on Mo 

Tell you if you didn't know, G.D. be ripping the globe 

Whipping the Range Rove, dough will never change Flow 

If you lyrical I'll cripple you, that's how the game go 

Get the fuck out of here with your plain hoe and small chips 

We all rich, only players score more than six 

Gorgeous chicks, quarter licks, blow a pound before we started 

It was more than this, hold it down 

Keep my head up, for ignorant niggas around me 

Front on my fam, son, better dose is what you tell me 

I keep it tight, you weak when you write 

And get beat, you light player 

It's the flavor I save for your neighbor 

My niggas died for this money and I'm a try for this 

Gotta cock the six, spit shots, shit, and drop hits 

We be the Bronx's finest, honeys got to rewind this 

G.D. and D.I. shit, now change the topic 

[Party Arty] 

Yo fuck a Bently, I push a Benzi 500 

Like the Indy, got too many Benjis to be stingy 

Skin complexion of a penny, skip the Henny 

Hit the Remi, spit the semi-automatic at anyone that static 

It's Party Arty, cardy with premium 

Trust me, for us three, I bust three 

Triple teaming 'em, Show & A.G. and 'em 

Without a doubt G.D. and 'em 

Bout it, bout it like Master P and 'em 

It's the machette swinger, I got plans to fuck every singer 

I already bring the ruck like Jerry Springer 

Bless it, for refreshment, I'm a senior 

Felony charges, y'all niggas is misdomeanor 

Like when I first shot the milli, or when I first copped the philly 

Ace Buchanan, a.k.a. Poppa Willy 

Flows knock you silly, rock above you when it's chilly 

Show love when the hoes jock to grill me, fill me 

The rasta in me make me wanna kick shit like I was socked silly 

I'm not the Willy to fuck with 

Cocked the milli on some rough shit, you want it, it's yours 

Get lost, cause y'all cats don't want to brawl with the big dogs 

Ayo the theme is to stay sick and have 'em fiend 

The dream is to make hits and stack cream 

The scheme is to get that cash for new trucks 

Ass at the bar for us to scoop up 

The beam, infrared on you, beamed up 

Come out the club, spill bub and scream "What?" 

D.I.T.C. and G.D. teamed up 

Bases loaded, the place exploded, we cleaned up