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trife diesel - we get it in lyrics
[intro: trife diesel]
uh, we get it in, s.i.n.y., n-gga, we get it in
stapleton, theodore n-ggas, we get it in
them t.m.f. — we get it in
s.i.n.y., n-gga, we get it in (the money first)
them t.m.f., we get it in (too much f-cking)
t.m.f., all day, we get it in (oh!)
yo, yo
[trife diesel]
i’m the jet signer, sip champagne on jet liners
leave ya apr-n, cooking up c0ke in the chef’s diner
touch n-ggas like old pedophiles who s-x minors
leave you lost in the back of the woods where they can’t find ya
v-g-n- monologue, you soft, straight p-ssy
for the strip with them watery dips and them beige cookies
f-ck a price range, i blew ten stacks on a dice game
place your bets, if it’s less than a quarter, it’s slight change
i’m on a night train to georgia, got to fill these orders
i’m paper stacking, ya’ll just looking silly on them corners
keep away from them fed lovers and watch for informers
my b-tch got a gun license, cuz them glocks stay up on us
riding dirty with kevlar vestes, who wan’ test us?
let my goons go to work on the first, n-gga who sent you
i’m connected with mob bosses, and guineas, jamaicans and trini’s
and rude boys who act a fool up for henny
[chorus: trife diesel]
44’s, big burners, that raw, bang up on your man
corridors, to the mess hall, n-gga we get it in
razorblades that’ll f-ck up your fade and give you a trim
we experts with them gems, and n-gga we get it in
s.i.n.y. (n-gga we get it in)
them stapleton, theodore n-gga (we get it in)
whether on the streets busting our heat or locked in the pen
i repeat once again (my n-gga, we get it in)
[trife diesel]
i stay high off the wibble, n-ggas speaking in riddles
but i leave ’em all wet like daytona beach when it drizzle
catch me on the creep late night like jimmy kimmel
black down, hoodied up so you know i’m strapped with the pistol
an iron nickle and twist you, turn you into a cripple
get plugged with hot slugs that’ll burn your bone to the grissle
meat hanging off of your tissue, and once my n-gga hawk blow the whistle
be weary, coming to get you
them f boys pull up in stretch toys, and we heavily armed
with them tools like mechanics who work in pep boys
rapid fire, black attire, feds wanna tap the wire
sammy gravanos get hollow, dead in they condo
bl–dy vets spread from beating this n-gga head like a bongo
guerilla warfare we was born and raised in the congos
the stapleton rock crushers, spot rushers, block busters
yo, snips, let these n-ggas know now they can not touch us
[chorus]
[trife diesel]
meet the kid with the sinister grin who k!ll innocent men
and drew blood from the minister’s pen
i get it in, lock and load, watch how my shot gon’ blow
contact the main headquarters tell them the shop is closed
i move with a flock of hoes, who get skiied, smoke weed and eat dominos
wild like some refugees in guantanamo, quick to let the llama go
and any given night i slay mics like geronimo
i live for the drama though, barack obama
i’m the only man breathing that can stop osama
bulletproof humvees, no honor amongst thieves
when i spit, let off a hundred shot clip with one squeeze
one shot, one k!ll, never will the sun chill
mr. hanc-ck, getting money like a young will
-ss-ssinate a nation, man up your battle stations
battle satan walking through h-ll with the power nation
[chorus]
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