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d.i.t.c. - themes, dreams, and schemes lyrics

[verse 1: o.c.]
even if the chosen one’s frozen, inside ice
i still rise like the spirit of christ, it’s all right
i’mma let you n-ggas know i’m still nice
with this voice-box made of gold, larynx priceless
what the f-ck y’all n-ggas thought?
i done seen n-ggas get sold and bought
for what my ancestors fought
was taught to drop jewelz (word life!)
you will respect mines or else feel the fragments of gunshot sh-lls
i will rock well for the rest of my days on this god-forsaken planet
splittin’ n-ggas wigs like i’m slammin’ ’em on granite
n-ggas can’t manage
whether jamaican, haitian, dominican, white or spanish
f-ck all that freestyle sh-t, i think sh-t out
if it’s comin’ from the top, make sense of what you’re talkin’ about

[verse 2: a.g.]
the e&j got me wetter than a n-gga hit with a nine beretta
your rhymes is dope, but mines is better
let us divide this cheddar
o.c. and us three tighter than n-ggas that did time together
it’s only right we shine together
i’mma rhyme forever, while you the worst
i see it now: i’ll be an old cat with a fat verse
unless these streets get me first, want a few mill
but y’all can never give me what i’m worth, we got the flavas
i’m whippin’ honey sh-t, the cherry blazer
my pen is real, you feel the blood touch the paper
when i’m through, i crush the paper
’cause now i know it
and i’mma blow it like i knew it for years
like my peers from childhood
was a wild hood, did anythin’ a broke black child could
even robbin’ and stealin’, but that’s not foul, that’s the hood
even money knew it
when he cracked a smile and p-ssed the goods

[hook]
ayo the theme is to stay sick and have ’em fiend
the dream is to make hits and stack cream
the scheme is to get that cash for new trucks
that -ss at the bar for us to scoop up
the beam, infrared on you, beamed up
come out the club, spill bub and scream “what?”
d.i.t.c. and g.d. teamed up
bases loaded, the place exploded, we cleaned up

[verse 3: d-flow]
ayo, i touch pistol, shine like crushed crystals
f-ck what i sift through, insane in your membrane
these cuffs i slip through, when i bust, trust i won’t miss you
a k!ller like kam, i send your whole fam with you
addicted to dro, sippin’ on mo
tell you if you didn’t know, g.d. be rippin’ the globe
whippin’ the range rove, dough will never change flow
if you lyrical i’ll cripple you, that’s how the game go
get the f-ck out of here with your plain ho and small chips
we all rich, only players score more than six
gorgeous chicks, quarter l!cks, blow a pound
before we started, it was more than this, hold it down
keep my head up for ignorant n-ggas around me
front on my fam, son, better dose is what you tell me
i keep it tight, you weak when you write
and get beat, you light player
it’s the flavor i save for your neighbor
my n-ggas died for this money and i’mma try for this
gotta c-ck the six, spit shots, sh-t, and drop hits
we be the bronx’s finest, honeys gotta rewind this
g.d. and d.i. sh-t, now change the topic

[verse 4: party arty]
yo f-ck a bently, i push a benzi 500 like the indy
got too many benjis to be stingy
skin complexion of a penny, skip the henny, hit the remi
spit the semi-automatic at anyone that static
it’s party arty, cardy with premium
trust me, for us three, i bust three, triple teamin’ ’em
show & a.g. and ’em, no doubt g.d. and ’em
’bout it, ’bout it like master p and ’em
it’s the machete swinger, i got plans to f-ck every singer
i already bring the ruck like jerry springer
bless it, for refreshment, i’m a senior
felony charges, y’all n-ggas is misdemeanor
like when i first shot the milli, or when i first copped the phillie
ace buchanan, a.k.a. poppa w-lly
flows knock you silly, rock above you when it’s chilly
show love when the hoes jock to grill me, fill me
the rasta in me make me wanna kick sh-t like i was socked silly
i’m not the w-lly to f-ck with
c-cked the milli on some rough sh-t, you want it? it’s yours
get lost, cause y’all cats don’t want to brawl with the big dogs

[hook]

- d i t c lyrics

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