[T.I.]
|
Aight nigga, you already know what it is man
|
A-Town, H-Town connection nigga
|
T.I.P. man, you understand that?
|
My homeboy Paul Wall, extended Pimp Squad Clique
|
Keep it pimpin mayne!
|
|
[Chorus: T.I.]
|
So many diamonds in my teeth you can't see no gold
|
Hundred ki's in the streets, every week no O
|
Certified G, a young nigga so cold
|
It's the Pimp Squad Clique, punk bitch, we so tho'ed
|
|
[T.I.]
|
Pimp smoke grey Cadillac, 24, imagine that
|
Camera in my license plate to see you when I'm backin back
|
T.I.P. be smokin on that good shit imagine that
|
I'm blowin on a hoe that's strong enough to kill the Cadillac
|
By bitch I mean fro, hell to heart and had a mack attack
|
Give me a brick of blow you never seen it flip as fast as that
|
And you can keep the beef, pussy nigga I don't battle rap
|
So that bullshit you kickin through yo' teeth a gangsta laughin at
|
That shit you hear on "Gangsta Grillz" is real, best chill
|
before you wake up with some gangsters in your grill and get killed
|
By a nigga named Big Phil, tote a big steel
|
Give a damn if my record never sells, I'm the shit still
|
|
[Chorus - 2X]
|
|
[Paul Wall]
|
I got the diamond ice in the grill, invisible top, glass bottom
|
I'm swervin lanes on the interstate, evadin laws and playin possum
|
I spin the wheel I roll the dice, I look at life in a different light
|
36 of that white make you a celebrity overnight
|
I shoot a kite to my potnah Project, locked up doin 45
|
And let him know I'm still holdin, them Grit Boys is on the rise
|
A hundred percent no compromise, my momma raised to be a man
|
I'm not concerned with the next man, gettin money, that's my plan
|
I'm on the road with that boy Unique, I'm po'n drank he roll the Sweets
|
T Ferris concocted a master plan, we executed it to the T
|
It's Paul Wall and T.I.P., makin haters, R.I.P.
|
We so tho'ed you can't compete, our competition is obsolete
|
|
[Chorus - 2X]
|
|
[Paul Wall]
|
I'm on the hustle 25/8, ATL to the lone star state
|
On the move I'm bleedin blocks, tryin to get this paper straight
|
No time to wait no room for error, the gameplan is crystal clear
|
I'm tryin to bolt up 83's and throw some ice cubes in the air
|
I'm reminiscin, on my potnah Duke that died and passed away
|
I'm strapped up at all times, if you flex I'ma blast away
|
Like Tom Hanks on "Castaway," I'm posted up just one deep
|
Cause these days these hoes out here be plottin to come up on the creep
|
And these suckers be on that reach, tryin to come up off of me
|
You need to go get it, by yourself and stand up on your own two feet
|
Look at me I'm star-studded, all because I punch that clock
|
Burnin straights out on the block, givin it all I got
|
|
[Chorus - 2X]
|
|
-----------------
|
So Many Diamonds
|
Paul Wall |