Intro
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[Hell Rell]
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Okay,okay,okay
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Yes sir
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Hell Fuckin Rell,
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J.R. Writer, Forty
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This is how we do it
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I am one of a kind(yeah)
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Its now or never nigga
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Times up muthafucka
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Lets do this
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[Hell Rell]
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Aiyo, I stop paying for coke, get bricks on the muscle
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Gorillas on they bullshit, Welcome to the jungle
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Fiends get served in the hallway, welcome to the hustle
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Where bitches do anything for a hit of that glass dick,
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When Im outta town, nothing less than a half brick,
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One-Sixty on the dash nothing less than a fast whip,
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I floss when its sunny, got money for a rainy day,
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In the dope spot a few blocks from where the Yankees play,
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Man Im heavy in that BX borough, We aint gotta front for nobody,
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We just thorough, and Im sittin' on an arsenal, rockets and the missiles,
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Took my advance and got my strip poppin with them nickels.
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And when Im in ya neighborhood, you gotta go hide,
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Deliver bullets to ya door like them Domino pies nigga,
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say hello to my little friend like scarface,
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I pull that fuckin rifle right out the guitar case
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[Chorus: Bezel]
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Dipset, the best out, Hell Rell, he fresh out
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Jones the kuffe smacker, He bringing them techs out
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Sporty-style, Forty Cal, He bringing corvettes out
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Bezel the Beast but I still show you what fresh bout
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You know who shavin the grams, 40k on the hand
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Killa Nigga, what more can I say about Cam,
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J.R. the Writer of writers and Santana,
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Back like cooked crack
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He even supplying suppliers
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[J.R. Writer]
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Dipset, lets do it man
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The type that im tighter, tight cause im writer
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write cause im nicer, site for the lifers
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knifes in the cipher, writers a viper,
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listen this is butter,
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even ringling brothers see i got the eye of the tiger
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before i met killa cam, i was dealing killa grams
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i mean killer grams, throws a tan, fill a pan
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recorded in the hole, where you couldn't chill or stand
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no booth, microphone hangin off the ceiling fan
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mass million fan sittin in the belly hilton
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watch how i heavy kills him, bessey,chevy,desi fill em
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but i still aint break a sweat, yes Im chillin,
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Veet wong, seat wrong, tito gonna bet the building
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I been grind to lean, sniff lines for fiends,
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grams chopped, tan rock, I pitch lima beans
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Piff grind was mean, had em dumb stuck,
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so when i say uncut, i dont mean behind the scenes
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[Chorus]
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[40 Cal]
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40
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Yo Im a NY G like Jeremy Shockey,
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come through drop my coupe like i meant to be sloppy
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I got DJ's kickin karate,
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cause they throw my wax on and take your wax off like Mr. Myagi
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Pimpin, Im cocky, I slap your broad on the cheek
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and send her home barefooted, you massaging her feet
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you probably go down on a freak, youre hardly a meat
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but we aint mad cause your proving, you are what you eat
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your squadron is weak, speak and get a broken something
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need a plate in ya grill like a toaster oven
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fuck it, they even got dojas frontin
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shakin your cola, only time your coke was bubbling cousin
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Cal get weight wit no problemo
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ride around ya block, sell it out the car window
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and ya moms been know, that I chop rocks
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that make your father cop like Carl Winslow
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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The Best Out
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| The Diplomats |
