[Mister C: Intro]
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I don't give a fuck who's first or who's last, the Dipset is gonna rock this shit out at a drop of a brick nigga. I don't care what y'all say, I don't care what y'all do, but y'all better rep Harlem until the god-damned music is through. Mister C, Lets Go!
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[Juelz Santana]
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All eyes on the honorable, who?
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DipSet, back to the grill again live at the barbeque
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Beefs on, all my kids ride like a carnival
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Heats drawn, all you kids lie, like carpet do
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Get up and get ready, what up, the kids ready
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Now that im back, the game is fucked, the bitch let me
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You front, you stunt, you get heat clown
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Yeah, punks jump up, to get beat down
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[Jim Jones]
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Now eight years ago, I played the bench with dimes
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Everybody in my park was getting bent off dimes
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Pitchin packs on the block, tryin' to get us some sneakers
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Sippin yak, henney, rock, puffin nickels of reefer
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I'm pumpin on the strip, in the midst of the drug trade
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Im watching for the blitz in the midst of the drug raid
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For niggas gotta eat, its like my stomach is touching back
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New York's ryder man, for you suckers im fuckin back
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[Hell Rell]
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Now can I, kick it?
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Yes I can
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They wanna know if im G'd Up
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Yes I am
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Look, I over-paid my dues, I almost made the news
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The block kinda hot but the coke came on move
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If I was a brick, you wouldn't know what to do with me
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You'd probably cook me up, get a stem, and start using me
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Nobody built me, I made myself and
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You don't know how to shoot guns, you'd graze yourself
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[J.R. Writer]
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I Was a fiend, before i became a teen
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It was dreams, toss for the latest beams (urh)
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Made in cream, cuz hey, they kept the kept the powder in the tray
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Way before it was maybelene
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Im into major stacks, major stats, hate on that
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Cam, holla cuz im gonna bring his label plaques
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That aint made of plat, whoa, your jewellery aint gold
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You cop ya jewellery from Hov, they all fade to black
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[40 Cal]
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When I was nine years old i realized who was a roll (?)
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At the end i cop a benz when i chop some O's, Forty
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Smokin lye, optimoz, poppin mo's, we both shoppin?
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Difference is you coppin clothes, I'll show you how to drop a rolls,
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Whether a phantom or a flower, I'm a killa like Jaffi Joe
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Im from where they made the cocky flow
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While hoes puck up on my stick, like you trying to hit a hockey goal
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[Un Kasa]
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I keep a nine in my dresser, lyrical professer
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Keep you under pressure, aint a nigga better
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Mind like a com-puter, six rugers
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You'll get finned, go to war with six shooters
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I bone bitches with coupes and big hooters
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Give head, and piff buddha, pump bricks and sip luha
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Ha you hard, you runnin with state troopers
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My niggas is straight shooters, cock back, and straight shoot ya
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[Mister C: Outro]
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Not in my book, never that nigga, I'll ask y'all niggas to go till the motherfuckin beat stops, When I had the dipset right, I had Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Hell Rell, JR Writer, 40 Cal, Un kasa, DipSet Forever nigga, Mister C signin' off, Duke Da God
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Dipset Symphony
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| The Diplomats |