Lyrics:
Check it out, I'm the C-A-S-A, the N-O-V-A,
And the rest is F-L-Y,
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix,
And these reasons I'll tell you
One, two
One, two, three, uh
Yeah
I was working part time in a five-and-dime
My boss was Mr. McGee
He told me several times that he didn't
spot ya five points
And I'll still serve that ass
This J-Zone talkin to you boy, come on
[Verse 1: J-Zone]
Now that every ball player want to rap
of other rappers that be spittin' hard
Yep yep he had five up on
When he passed him that styrofoam
The Easter pink, heard it in a rhyme before
Finally
(Boom, boom, boom, boom)
I know some niggas that's behind the wall
Did like a dime and leave with a scar
Niggas that's still gettin' money in
Prison, rock
(woo!)
Y yo sé que muchos no lo entienden (woo!)
Porque Nicky tiene lo que tiene (woo!)
Cuáles son los duros, dime quiénes (woo!)
Tú te haces el loco,
got the Lincoln right here, belonged to Loretta Lynn
The coalminer's daughter used to drive it to town
It's yours for a song and five hundred down.'
shit out of luck
Because the West Side ain't takin no shorts on the dime
So fire it up
Now, now, now, nine in my hand, ounce in my crotch
Diggin'
'Cause these crackers tryin to take a nigga life and they rights
I'm surrounded by fake-ass crooks
They swear they kingpins but don't have money on they
shit out of luck
Because the West Side ain't takin no shorts on the dime
So fire it up
Now, now, now, nine in my hand, ounce in my crotch
Diggin'
[Melle Mel]
Melle Mel with the clientele
I'm gonna rock your chime and ring your bell
See I'm so bad and I'm so light
A lot of rhyme on a dime to make
1 2 1 2 3 4
Yeah
I was working part time in a five-and-dime
My boss was Mr. McGee
He told me several times that he didn't like my kind
'Cause I was
One, two
One, two, three, uh
Yeah
I was working part time in a five-and-dime
My boss was Mr. McGee
He told me several times that he didn't
are greatly exaggerated
Exacerbated by the fact that my syntax is highly complicated, cause I immigrated from
This singly-bred little place in
by the lace
Bitch keep on fussin, she leavin the place
Drip, Drip, Drippin in Slime
Plugs only know what I pay for the dime
She wanna come but I
composure like a soldier in a line Peepin how my dough's up i get dozen's by the dime
HUSTLER OF THE YEAR and i aint never broke a crime
And i dont need
attached
Now I'm running with the bag like we doing track
And you waiting by your phone trynna get a match
18 on my grind
5am we Up all night
In the booth
sobriety?
This shit 'bout surviving
Niggas either pop 5s or drop dimes
And I aint doing neither til I cock mine
Hit you like a sawn-off
Tell me what's ya
Anyway, I be ridin down West Tennessee in my wagon
Late night therapy, I imagine
That I was riding in somethin that I could brag in
Dime by my side, she
what if what if what if
Legends never die
Shoulda coulda woulda shoulda
Shouldnt be alive
Almost died like forty times
First time I was four or five
The kids next door will leave you stranded by yo lonesome
Codename 5ive get em gone for the duce one
G double o all the troops at a ten hut
Walk down gang
to snooze sum
Morning earlier jacking been ah Few summers
Making who numbers
Sitting comas
I made ah few promises
Me myself and I
Boy ain leaking nun
V dot
At least, not like number four and number five
19 is fast approaching
So you rope her in
Triggered by lusting
Seems like puppy loving
Is missing, while you're
Right down Cherry Ave by the cleaners, she got her cherry popped
The cherry colored Honda was the getaway
But hell could wait
Y'all niggas cap like
Discuss these dime by zaida v Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In