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THE DIPLOMATS Miscellaneous I Love You [Juelz Santana] People say my theories is backwards I tell them, sincerly, it's clearly, you hearing me backwrds I tell 'em I'm great, but still I need practice I tell them to wait, go and comeback quick, they don't understand me It's not logic, I'm not logic, I got problems I worship the late prophet, the great Muhammad Ali For the words that he spoke, that stung like a bee Soaked into me, you niggaz will see but I'm still insane, I'm Rodman, dealing my brain I'm grinding sharing my pain, fuck, where is the fame Niggaz, they still rhyming, still in the game They still dealing the cane, still cock shit in your brain, homie I still smell the rotten people that lay There in ground zero, forgotten, left in for days Probably left there to stay, left in decay Broken pieces of towers, left in their graves I pray they be saved, until then, that's just a suggestion I made Follow me homie, listen, I subjected my ways nigga Weapons that spray, at your fucking face nigga It's Santana the great, in the place niggaz, stay away nigga Cause I'm headed straight to the top, niggaz Diplomat Taliban slash ROC nigga Oh yeah, I do this for my block niggaz D train, Al Gator, pop niggaz Young drugs, young twins, Shiest bug Niggaz I love, my thugs Now, come fuck with your boy Jones, Killa, Freakay, come fuck with your boy, WHOA It's Santana again nigga, no bandanas just him nigga In the flesh, like [Cam'Ron] I seen it time, business and friendship Friendships ended, business attended, clips get extended Lawyers get called, accountants get faxed That was my man, well I wish that he meant it It's been a long time, hereing the mobsters This ain't overnight, it's years in the process Shed a tear in the process, now process is over All my niggaz get prepared for the Oscars Back to the block, sharing a lobster Morris Malone, Sam Malone, preparing the vodka, holla Hallejulah, no hum-du-allah, but respecting my Aki He held me down, when it was getting real rocky Hustling, isn't a hobby I sit in the lobby, look at my ovie, have visions of Gotti Visions of lotties, pictures of Blood, scenes of L I wanna see my son, piss in that potty Jimmy, I'm going to make sure your wrist is real rocky See my plans are for long term like Mr. Miyagi Wax on, wax off, put our wax on, take that wack off Over some nights, I had fights over the white The roads to the lows, I knows what it's like Now, career over like Mike: anyone Tyson, Jordan, Jackson, it's over This shit right here touched my soul, man My grandmother or something, 56 bless her soul Apartment 56 that is, 101, West 140th Rest In Peace Liddiah Giles, Blood Shed.. |
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