Diabolic - You Won't lyrics
[Diabolic - You Won't lyrics]
"Fuck that, look at him
He’s nothing the guy’s a piece of shit"
"You got a cigarette?"
"Jesus Christ, you killed, you
Fuckin-a killed him, he’s dead"
Haha, Diabolic, Asmatic, Cop Shop
Breath Easy Productions we putting it down
Triple Optix, Falling Angels, Foul Play
We ain’t fucking around
All I hear is cats runnin’ off at the mouth
When they don’t know what the
Fuck they talkin’ about
And Bolic show y’all
Busting off a gat or two
‘Til I catch a few bullets and
Throw ‘em back at you don’t believe me
Holla at me when you’re passing thru
1Huntington Station, 16th and New York Avenue
I’ll be there drunk
Making fun of their songs
And ran for ‘em like HIV airborn
I stand strong giving y’all faggots the truth
Clowning cats over what Asmatic produced
See Bolic never hesitate to
Say that you’re wack
Give my opinion, but now I’m a hater for that
In my mind all I’m doing is stating the facts
That I don’t believe shit that
You say in your raps but, I can’t lie dawg
I’m still playing your tracks
So I can get a good laugh
At the way that you act
You won’t, do the shit you say in your songs
Ain’t nobody here playing along
You won’t, do shit about me saying it
I’m Diabolic
Who the fuck you think you playing with
Okay, yo, I smoke a pack a day
Plus eight blunts
With the breath control of eight lungs
Attached to the same tongue
I ate crumbs, paid dues, and made moves
Then made your wife give me
Pussy and brain too
If you meet me, I ain’t no shameless actor
I’ll go from your favorite rapper
To most hated after
I ain’t faking jacks to gain a fan base
I’m drinkin’ patron, spittin’ in a fan’s face
I can’t take all these cats? and watch <–
‘Til I make them buy my album
Then buy me a shot i’ve got my hands full of
Cards you can’t pull
So I pop shit, like Ja Rule’s stool sample
I laugh at hype, ’cause when I grab the mic
I got these pussies on
My dick like hermaphrodites
You faggots write lies when you
Go in the booth well I’m right here drunk
Still knowing the truth
I don’t know what’s worse
Eminem sayin’ some thug raps
Or having to deal with Mace makin’ a comeback
Everybody touch gats
And have to say they pull it
Couldn’t bust a shot, ejaculating bullets
Now the game’s alligator shirts
And trucker hats and I’m on the sideline
Like what the fuck is that
You’ll get stuck for stacks
Yeah I’ll run your pockets
Now go tell all your friends
You got sunk by Bolic
Gotta gun then pop it, if not stop lying
I never believe you’d actually pop iron
I don’t give a fuck like a prostitute
If you claim to cock and shoot
With cops in hot pursuit
I’m the top recruit, taking over the game
You don’t know shit about me
All you know is my name
Diabolic, mothafuckers know I’ve been raw
When I begin tour do a cop shop in store
He’s nothing the guy’s a piece of shit"
"You got a cigarette?"
"Jesus Christ, you killed, you
Fuckin-a killed him, he’s dead"
Haha, Diabolic, Asmatic, Cop Shop
Breath Easy Productions we putting it down
Triple Optix, Falling Angels, Foul Play
We ain’t fucking around
All I hear is cats runnin’ off at the mouth
When they don’t know what the
Fuck they talkin’ about
And Bolic show y’all
Busting off a gat or two
‘Til I catch a few bullets and
Throw ‘em back at you don’t believe me
Holla at me when you’re passing thru
1Huntington Station, 16th and New York Avenue
I’ll be there drunk
Making fun of their songs
And ran for ‘em like HIV airborn
I stand strong giving y’all faggots the truth
Clowning cats over what Asmatic produced
See Bolic never hesitate to
Say that you’re wack
Give my opinion, but now I’m a hater for that
In my mind all I’m doing is stating the facts
That I don’t believe shit that
You say in your raps but, I can’t lie dawg
I’m still playing your tracks
So I can get a good laugh
At the way that you act
You won’t, do the shit you say in your songs
Ain’t nobody here playing along
You won’t, do shit about me saying it
I’m Diabolic
Who the fuck you think you playing with
Okay, yo, I smoke a pack a day
Plus eight blunts
With the breath control of eight lungs
Attached to the same tongue
I ate crumbs, paid dues, and made moves
Then made your wife give me
Pussy and brain too
If you meet me, I ain’t no shameless actor
I’ll go from your favorite rapper
To most hated after
I ain’t faking jacks to gain a fan base
I’m drinkin’ patron, spittin’ in a fan’s face
I can’t take all these cats? and watch <–
‘Til I make them buy my album
Then buy me a shot i’ve got my hands full of
Cards you can’t pull
So I pop shit, like Ja Rule’s stool sample
I laugh at hype, ’cause when I grab the mic
I got these pussies on
My dick like hermaphrodites
You faggots write lies when you
Go in the booth well I’m right here drunk
Still knowing the truth
I don’t know what’s worse
Eminem sayin’ some thug raps
Or having to deal with Mace makin’ a comeback
Everybody touch gats
And have to say they pull it
Couldn’t bust a shot, ejaculating bullets
Now the game’s alligator shirts
And trucker hats and I’m on the sideline
Like what the fuck is that
You’ll get stuck for stacks
Yeah I’ll run your pockets
Now go tell all your friends
You got sunk by Bolic
Gotta gun then pop it, if not stop lying
I never believe you’d actually pop iron
I don’t give a fuck like a prostitute
If you claim to cock and shoot
With cops in hot pursuit
I’m the top recruit, taking over the game
You don’t know shit about me
All you know is my name
Diabolic, mothafuckers know I’ve been raw
When I begin tour do a cop shop in store