Text: Cam'Ron. Got To Love It.
[Intro: Cam'ron]
Killa
Dipset
For I set it off
Okay
First off
You a bitch nigga (nigga)
Only reason im doing this
Ima just name five reasons real quick
Got a hundred fifty got a hundred fifty
First, you stole Rocafella from Dame
Second, you stole Kanye from Dame
Third, you stole Rocafella from Dame
Forth, I seen the nigga throw that diamond up before them shots was fired
Fifth, hold on turn the beat off
I had to turn the beat off for this
You talking bout you an eighties baby
You thirty seven years old
You was born in 1968
And I open the Daily News how is the king of New York rockin sandals with jeans
Open toe sandals with chancletas with jeans on
How is the king of New York rockin sandals with jeans when he 42 years old
Back to business!
[Verse 1: Cam'ron]
You ain't the only one with big wallets
got it, my shits brolic
dotted, but ya publishing should go to Miss Wallace
honest, stealing BIG shit, he made two albums
you wylin, and he can't dress dawg who styled em'
it was Rocawear, when Dame had it now u got it
call it cockawear, (got it on?) not in here
dead it pronto, you don't see a car, no
Dame & BIG's bitch for years, now you Juan's hoe
he own the Forty Forty, he got you in Atlantic City
put ya' budget outta baseline, gotdamn it's pretty
you love a Harlem nigga, we get it cookin it's true
but now I look, we got more dudes in Brooklyn than you
apparently right, down in Jeezy video
I shoulda kissed you on the cheek, you a pretty hoe
in Jaz video u starred in it, Peter Pan
I was hopping off the Greyhound, Peter Pan
how could he be the man huh, only reason fam
I don't suck dick or kiss ass and i'm conceited damn
but we hawk yo, right where you walk bro
you could fool the rest of the world as long as New York know
we put you underground clown they gon' check the cellars
I know he 40 years old, I don't respect my elders
I respect the hustlers plus the grinders and the sellers
you's a customer buster, here go jet propellers
[Chorus: Max B]x2
You gotta hate us the way we getting this paper
All my niggas is coming strait from minimum wages
niggas dick ridin the dips steady tryin to play us
They tryna spray us, But Ferraris we got them in flavors
DIPSET! - We in 40th niggas we toat them guns
DIPSET! - This is 40th nigga we from the slums
DIPSET! - Pushin 40 nigga you not the one
Its killa season holla at em' nigga cause here it come
[Verse 2: Cam'ron]
Who could fuck with me, no mammal
but we tote handles
at ya' open toe sandals, and you look like Joe Camel
off of Rocafella right, no contact
but bust a fly joint they put us out the contract
I left the label right, alot of cats wonder how
everytime I diss that label I get fined a hundred thou
just for tellin ya'll I get fined a hundred thou
them cats are ill, 5 times a half of mill
wan't to play like a bumper sticker, smack a grill
Paul Wall cap a grill, but them cats are daffodil's
east coast, west coast slang, yo cap get peeled
down in Houston ask B, i'm a mack fo'real
heck he tell me, respect better dwell me
Beyonce fiance? check my second LP
I might bring her back
thats your girl, thats your world, had the thing fuckin singing bout slinging crack
mister Rocafella, stop stop stop it fella
still got her acapellas, but I will Akinyele her
**put it in ya' mouthhhhh - put it in ya' mouthhhhhh**
it ain't my fault i'm raw, i'm sorry B but I wanna war
and he stabbed Un over Charlie Baltimore (fuckin fagget)
sucker for love.. uh uh.. sucker for love
kill a bitch, go to trial, hand be stuffed in a glove
i'mma hop in the bed, dawg just gon' pop off her head
tell ole Jay-Z chill, Cochran is dead
[Chorus: Max B]x2
[Outro: Cam'Ron]
Yall niggas don't want it with us man
This just round one on fifteen rounds B
We ready you aint gone bluff us at no concert
Sell out 25,000 acting like you gon' diss us
You got anthrax over there man
And we George Bush man
You aint gone Sadam Hussein it
Acting like you got something over there
You doing what Ma$e did
You making secret songs man
Let it out man
We ready for fifteen rounds man
And All I did was battle once
Everybody getting ready to step to the plate
And im gonna step up again
And slam and grand slam your ass
Pardon me, Dipset
I know you
I know you like that
I remember Dame sold you his old pathfinder
Chipped in for the gs
You Jaz-o's son
Where is Sauce Money at
Where is like where are they
Im get back to all that
Dipset dog
round 1
let the games begin doggie
Im laughing at you ugly ass no homo
You ugly dog you ugly
You ugly man you ugly
My man Un said you look like fraggle rock and all that
You old alf ass nigga
Ima get back to you nigga
You look like alf
[Chorus: Max B]x2
Killa
Dipset
For I set it off
Okay
First off
You a bitch nigga (nigga)
Only reason im doing this
Ima just name five reasons real quick
Got a hundred fifty got a hundred fifty
First, you stole Rocafella from Dame
Second, you stole Kanye from Dame
Third, you stole Rocafella from Dame
Forth, I seen the nigga throw that diamond up before them shots was fired
Fifth, hold on turn the beat off
I had to turn the beat off for this
You talking bout you an eighties baby
You thirty seven years old
You was born in 1968
And I open the Daily News how is the king of New York rockin sandals with jeans
Open toe sandals with chancletas with jeans on
How is the king of New York rockin sandals with jeans when he 42 years old
Back to business!
[Verse 1: Cam'ron]
You ain't the only one with big wallets
got it, my shits brolic
dotted, but ya publishing should go to Miss Wallace
honest, stealing BIG shit, he made two albums
you wylin, and he can't dress dawg who styled em'
it was Rocawear, when Dame had it now u got it
call it cockawear, (got it on?) not in here
dead it pronto, you don't see a car, no
Dame & BIG's bitch for years, now you Juan's hoe
he own the Forty Forty, he got you in Atlantic City
put ya' budget outta baseline, gotdamn it's pretty
you love a Harlem nigga, we get it cookin it's true
but now I look, we got more dudes in Brooklyn than you
apparently right, down in Jeezy video
I shoulda kissed you on the cheek, you a pretty hoe
in Jaz video u starred in it, Peter Pan
I was hopping off the Greyhound, Peter Pan
how could he be the man huh, only reason fam
I don't suck dick or kiss ass and i'm conceited damn
but we hawk yo, right where you walk bro
you could fool the rest of the world as long as New York know
we put you underground clown they gon' check the cellars
I know he 40 years old, I don't respect my elders
I respect the hustlers plus the grinders and the sellers
you's a customer buster, here go jet propellers
[Chorus: Max B]x2
You gotta hate us the way we getting this paper
All my niggas is coming strait from minimum wages
niggas dick ridin the dips steady tryin to play us
They tryna spray us, But Ferraris we got them in flavors
DIPSET! - We in 40th niggas we toat them guns
DIPSET! - This is 40th nigga we from the slums
DIPSET! - Pushin 40 nigga you not the one
Its killa season holla at em' nigga cause here it come
[Verse 2: Cam'ron]
Who could fuck with me, no mammal
but we tote handles
at ya' open toe sandals, and you look like Joe Camel
off of Rocafella right, no contact
but bust a fly joint they put us out the contract
I left the label right, alot of cats wonder how
everytime I diss that label I get fined a hundred thou
just for tellin ya'll I get fined a hundred thou
them cats are ill, 5 times a half of mill
wan't to play like a bumper sticker, smack a grill
Paul Wall cap a grill, but them cats are daffodil's
east coast, west coast slang, yo cap get peeled
down in Houston ask B, i'm a mack fo'real
heck he tell me, respect better dwell me
Beyonce fiance? check my second LP
I might bring her back
thats your girl, thats your world, had the thing fuckin singing bout slinging crack
mister Rocafella, stop stop stop it fella
still got her acapellas, but I will Akinyele her
**put it in ya' mouthhhhh - put it in ya' mouthhhhhh**
it ain't my fault i'm raw, i'm sorry B but I wanna war
and he stabbed Un over Charlie Baltimore (fuckin fagget)
sucker for love.. uh uh.. sucker for love
kill a bitch, go to trial, hand be stuffed in a glove
i'mma hop in the bed, dawg just gon' pop off her head
tell ole Jay-Z chill, Cochran is dead
[Chorus: Max B]x2
[Outro: Cam'Ron]
Yall niggas don't want it with us man
This just round one on fifteen rounds B
We ready you aint gone bluff us at no concert
Sell out 25,000 acting like you gon' diss us
You got anthrax over there man
And we George Bush man
You aint gone Sadam Hussein it
Acting like you got something over there
You doing what Ma$e did
You making secret songs man
Let it out man
We ready for fifteen rounds man
And All I did was battle once
Everybody getting ready to step to the plate
And im gonna step up again
And slam and grand slam your ass
Pardon me, Dipset
I know you
I know you like that
I remember Dame sold you his old pathfinder
Chipped in for the gs
You Jaz-o's son
Where is Sauce Money at
Where is like where are they
Im get back to all that
Dipset dog
round 1
let the games begin doggie
Im laughing at you ugly ass no homo
You ugly dog you ugly
You ugly man you ugly
My man Un said you look like fraggle rock and all that
You old alf ass nigga
Ima get back to you nigga
You look like alf
[Chorus: Max B]x2
Cam'ron
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