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Fightin Words
Diabolic
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Check 1, check 2, 'Bolic to the rescue
F.U.C.K. the world when I step through
Got that fresh new, real raw, uncut
Dumb down underground and educate these dumb fucks
Poured out blood guts filled it with some lime green
Crystallize purple cess to burn and share with my team
FUCK Y'ALL, cops seen the picture on the wide screen
And the Rebel Army yo calling leave the crime scene
Exhibit A, baggy pants on the footage live stream
No, hipster shit so my dick can fit inside jeans
Nineteen, ninety shit New York's a warzone
Knock 'ya light's out cut the power to your jaw bone
Lord knows Diabolic's 'bout to make a pit stop
Where these pussies hang like these pigs are Lil Kim's twat
Psycho, with a sick plot like Alfred Hitchcock
Hip hop, so you out in flip flops with gym socks
Soldier's lace your boots up
Ladies lose your high heels
I'm not what you're used to
Difference is, I'm real
And I feel it's my job
To do something about that
Fuck the guys feeling otherwise
Meet me out back
One Time, COME ON
Two Times, COME ON
Three Times... these are Fightin' Words
One Time, COME ON
Two Times, COME ON
Three Times... these are Fightin' Words
Yo check the game plan I don't wanna shake hands
Rather see you face plant like Weezy on a skate ramp
Caveman missing links in my dnA strands
My supporters would slap the shit out Lil Wayne fans
I don't like the radio I don't care where Jay stands
I don't Watch The Throne or Kanye in his Ray-Banns
State champ, treated like Elvis out in Graceland
They pale in comparison, albino to a spray tan
Fat cats, paint cans, break dance cardboard
Art form mashed out, how about some hardcore?
Sharp sword or razor blade ain't afraid to start wars
Hard body Diabolic's known to break a sharks jaw
Far more raw that front line bomb drop
Nonstop slaughter every corn pop on top
Songs hot like ya Mom's twat feeling Sean's cocked
Full court buzzerbeater winning was a longshot
Soldier, move up
I don't give two fucks
Who what, when why where
Don't confuse us
DJ's ill breaks Serrato was a milk crate
Rhyme the beats on a maxi single massive pill take
Labels making stacks table scraps on my meal plate
Kept it real with a record deal and it feels great
Kill snakes, cut throats, strategize the utmost
Art of war paint a masterpiece with every brush stroke
Shoot for the stars crosshairs on my gun scope
Training like Rocky Balboa with a jump rope
Jump Colt, .45 caught a high from blunt smoke
Now Big L and Pun's ghost live from what I just wrote
Come close focus on the beast as he mutates
Screw face like your boombox ate my Clue tape
Fools shake cause I booby trapped their escape hatch
Payback fightin' to the death in a cage match
May slap your favorite DJ until he plays that
Red dough hypodermic needle in the haystak
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