Got To Love It (jay-z Diss) – Cam’Ron – letras

[Cam’Ron]Uh Dipset! Fore I set it offO.K. First off, you a bitch niggaOnly reason I’m doin this, I’ma jus name 5 reasons real quick, got a hundred fiftyFirst – you stole Rocafella from DameSecond – you stole Kanye from DameThird – you stole Rocawear from DameForth – I seen the nigga throw that diamond up before them shots was firedFifth – hold on, turn the beat offI had to turn the beat off for thisYou talkin bout you a 80’s babyYou 37 years old, you was born in 1968 and I open the daily newsHow’s the king of new york rocking sandals with jeans?Open toe sandals with chancletas with jeans onHow’s the king of New York rocking sandals with jeans and he 42 years old?[Cam’Ron]Backup, this one ain’t the only one with big walletsGot it, my shits brollic, dot itBut your publishing should go to Ms. WallaceHonest. Stealing +BIG+ shit, he made 2 albums, you wildinAnd he came dressed dog, ooh stylinIt was Roc-a-Wear, when Dame had itNow you got it, call it +Cock-a-wear+, heh not in hereDeaded pronto, you won’t see a car. NoDame and Big bitch for years, now you on hoeHe on the 40/40 got you in Atlantic CityBitch your budget outta baseline, goddamn it’s prettyYou love a harlem nigga we get it cooking it’s trueBut now I look we got more dudes in Brooklyn then youA parity right? Down in Jeezy videoI shoulda kissed you on the cheek, you a pretty hoAnd Jaz video you starred in it, Peter PanI was hopping off the grey hound, Peter PanHow could he be the man? Ha only reason famI don’t suck dick or kiss ass and I’m consided, damnBut we hawk yo, right where you walk broYou can fool the rest of the world long as New York knowWe put you under ground clown, they gon check the cellarsI know he 40 years old, I don’t respect my eldersI respect the hustlers, plus the grinders and the sellersYouse a customer buster, here go jet propellers[Chorus: x2]You got to hate us the way we gettin this paperAll my niggaz are coming straight from minimum wageNiggaz dick riding the Dip steady trying to play usBut you get sprayed, bust a round we got in his faceDipset – hittin 40 and niggaz we totin gunsDipset – this is forty an nigga we from the slumDipset – pushin 40 nigga you not the oneIt’s killin season, holla at a nigga cause here it come[Cam’Ron]Killa! Let’s goWho can fuck with me? No mammal, but we tote handlesAtcha open toe sandals, and you look like Joe GambleOff of Rocafella right? no contactBut Busta fly joints, they put us out the contractI left the label right, lot of cats wonder howEverytime I diss that label I get fined a hundred-thouJus for tellin y’all I get fined a hundred-thouHeh them cats are ill, 5 times a half a milWars to play, like a bumper sticker smack a grillPaul Wall cap a grill but them cats are daffy dillsEast coast west coast slang yo cap ya billDown in Houston ask B I’ma mack forrealHackie tell me, respect, better dwell meBeyonce fiance, check my 2nd LPI might bring it back, that’s your girl, that’s your worldHad the thing, fucking singing bout slinging crackMr. Rocafella stop, stop, stop it fellaStill got our acapellas, but I will ock-ya-bella[Hook]put it in ya mouth uh put it in ya mouthput it in ya mouth uh put it in ya mouth[Cam’Ron]It ain’t my fault I’m rawI’m sorry B but I want a warAnd he stabbed UN over Charlie BaltimoreSucker for love, hmm-hmm sucker for loveKilla bitch go to trial hand be stuffed in the gloveI’ma hop in the bed, dog gon jus pop off her headTell « Oh Jay-Z chill, Cochran is dead »[Chorus][Cam’Ron]Y’all niggaz don’t want it with us manThis just round one, 15 rounds BWe ready, brake off bluff, professional concert,sell out 25 thousandActin like you gon diss usYou got anthrax over there man, and we George Bush manYou on some Saddam HusseninActing like you got something over thereYou doing what ma did, you making super songs manLet it out man, get ready for 15 rounds manAnd all I did was battle onceEverybody getting ready to step to the plateAnd I’ma step up again and slam, grand-slam yo ass pardon meDipset! I know you, I know you like thatI remember Dame sold you his old pathfinderChipped in for the GS, you Jaz old sonWhere’s source money at? Where’s the like, where they at?I’ma get back to all that, Dipset dawgRound one, let the games begin doggyHaha ain’t laughing at ya ugly ass no moreYOU UGLY DAWG! YOU UGLY! You ugly man, you uglyMy man UN said you look like Fraggle Rock and all thatYou on outfast nigga? Get back to you niggaNigga OH![Chorus]Oh shit, yo dude make sure you got them old vocalsBring ’em up real quick (Beyonce vocals)Yup, yup that’s her, yup we got ’em