Cam’ron, A-Trak, Dame Dash , Juelz Santana - Dipshits lyrics
Cam'ron [Cam'ron Giles] Manhattan, NY, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Cam’ron, A-Trak, Dame Dash , Juelz Santana - Dipshits lyrics]
Never thought they'd see this again, haha
Here we go!
Killa Cam in the building (Dipset)
You know what it is my man A Trak
I feel something epic, no homo (Just Blaze)
Man, I'm that nigga, y'all
I ain't even lying
I'm running fashion, man, I ain't even trying
I see these fuckboys hating on me
Been in the crib three years
They still waiting on me
But I'm done with the frontin'
I'm popping trunk and pressing the button
No stunting, I'm dumping and pumping the pump
Somethin' to this chump
Have him crying like onions
With a gun I am gifted
Back up before I will happily lift it
Popping a cap in the back of your cap
Lift up your hat, my astro's malicious
Mami backed up and said
She see the difference
"You're mature, handsome
Mixed with a lot of ign'ance"
Dick in her intestines 'bout
To poke her chitlins
Call me 2 Chainz's Drummond
Say my strokes are different
I'm different, you beating
What you doing after this? Bitch, I'm leaving
Adios, huh, vámonos
I'll fuck your mama, word to mama
Keep your mama close
Uh, I know you miss this
It's still Dipset, you dipshit's
Stay fly, don't get your bitch hit
Stay gripped, don't get your shit split
Uh, still push it and get it off
Nigga, we just cut from a different cloth
Uh, I know you miss this
Still Dipset, you dipshit's
Man, fuck a magazine
Don't care what you cowards read
You ain't got to wonder
We like wonder with our bread
Money, respect, don't forget the power, dread
Had this one girl squirting like a showerhead
Nine on the waist, eighty keys in the trunk
Stamp on the dope, eighty degrees of funk
Reebok money, eighty degrees in the pumps
Lookin' for me? Top floor suite of the Trump
Baby
'Cause of stupidity, send fire, humidity
No one here is sick of me, got the gift
No Christmas tree
Get the shovels, y'all, everyone digging me
I'm back to the future, still making history
Uh, I know you miss this
It's still Dipset, you dipshit's
Stay fly, don't get your bitch hit
Stay gripped, don't get your shit split
Uh, still push it and get it off
Nigga, we just cut from a different cloth
Uh, I know you miss this
Still Dipset, you dipshit's
I feel like rapping on this shit
First off, my name is Dame Dash
And I want to talk for a
Second if you don't mind
Let me just say one thing
I am from Harlem, and I'm back outside
And you know what that means?
That means people eat
'Cause I'm a Harlem nigga
And that's what we do
That means when we walk in the room
Nobody's safe you 'bout to feel that, pause
Harlem sticks together
So if you feeling like number one
Get ready to be number two, 'cause we back
What's that shit y'all be saying?
Fool's Gold, alright?
'Bout to party, I might pop bottles
Might have to see Champagne Dame!
Here we go!
Killa Cam in the building (Dipset)
You know what it is my man A Trak
I feel something epic, no homo (Just Blaze)
Man, I'm that nigga, y'all
I ain't even lying
I'm running fashion, man, I ain't even trying
I see these fuckboys hating on me
Been in the crib three years
They still waiting on me
But I'm done with the frontin'
I'm popping trunk and pressing the button
No stunting, I'm dumping and pumping the pump
Somethin' to this chump
Have him crying like onions
With a gun I am gifted
Back up before I will happily lift it
Popping a cap in the back of your cap
Lift up your hat, my astro's malicious
Mami backed up and said
She see the difference
"You're mature, handsome
Mixed with a lot of ign'ance"
Dick in her intestines 'bout
To poke her chitlins
Call me 2 Chainz's Drummond
Say my strokes are different
I'm different, you beating
What you doing after this? Bitch, I'm leaving
Adios, huh, vámonos
I'll fuck your mama, word to mama
Keep your mama close
Uh, I know you miss this
It's still Dipset, you dipshit's
Stay fly, don't get your bitch hit
Stay gripped, don't get your shit split
Uh, still push it and get it off
Nigga, we just cut from a different cloth
Uh, I know you miss this
Still Dipset, you dipshit's
Man, fuck a magazine
Don't care what you cowards read
You ain't got to wonder
We like wonder with our bread
Money, respect, don't forget the power, dread
Had this one girl squirting like a showerhead
Nine on the waist, eighty keys in the trunk
Stamp on the dope, eighty degrees of funk
Reebok money, eighty degrees in the pumps
Lookin' for me? Top floor suite of the Trump
Baby
'Cause of stupidity, send fire, humidity
No one here is sick of me, got the gift
No Christmas tree
Get the shovels, y'all, everyone digging me
I'm back to the future, still making history
Uh, I know you miss this
It's still Dipset, you dipshit's
Stay fly, don't get your bitch hit
Stay gripped, don't get your shit split
Uh, still push it and get it off
Nigga, we just cut from a different cloth
Uh, I know you miss this
Still Dipset, you dipshit's
I feel like rapping on this shit
First off, my name is Dame Dash
And I want to talk for a
Second if you don't mind
Let me just say one thing
I am from Harlem, and I'm back outside
And you know what that means?
That means people eat
'Cause I'm a Harlem nigga
And that's what we do
That means when we walk in the room
Nobody's safe you 'bout to feel that, pause
Harlem sticks together
So if you feeling like number one
Get ready to be number two, 'cause we back
What's that shit y'all be saying?
Fool's Gold, alright?
'Bout to party, I might pop bottles
Might have to see Champagne Dame!