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d-lo - down talk lyrics

[intro: d-lo]
d-lo, d-lo, ayy

[verse 1: d-lo]
woo, i swear my n-ggas be k!llin’ sh-t on them freeways
my n-gga tb locked up, he need a three-way
my brother moon just speared a n-gga in my driveway
when it’s h-lla eyes and cameras, no we don’t slide
got my cleats on in the field, n-gga, it’s real, n-gga
don’t be in the wrong place, the wrong time, you could get k!lled, n-gga
got a stick on the forty, man i knocked a b-tch for my brodie
man, i gotta slide to the neck, can’t fight no case with no co-d
man i got b-tches, i’m pimpin’ these hoes
i’m scared of the cops, i be carryin’ fours
i’m servin’ these n-ggas, i’m breakin’ these hoes
these n-ggas ain’t pimpin’, they breakin’ the code, ayy
chasin’ that money, i ain’t been asleep
don’t make me call my brother sleep
i swear somebody gon’ rip

[pre-chorus: d-lo]
swear to god we poppin’, n-gga
my rudeboys be poppin’ n-ggas
(one word, them n-ggas be dead, and i wouldn’t lie to n-ggas)
if you ain’t never caught you no body, i can’t slide with n-ggas
you ain’t never kicked you a high-speed on five-oh, i can’t ride with n-ggas

[chorus: nemz]
people change up constant like seasons
i don’t know why they down talk my success for no reason
endless nights with no sleepin’
i been reachin’ different regions
thinkin’ ’bout the different ways to get a million
and i been so resilient, i been playin’ villain
give a f-ck what you say, no way, i can’t change
no, i can’t change
we wasn’t built the same, we wasn’t built the same

[verse 2: d-lo]
i don’t know why they down talk on the rudeboy like i ain’t crazy, baby
i’m an 80’s baby, got a baby draco
from the shady 80’s, i sold crack crack to a crazy lady
i was tired of rappin’ about hoes, now i’m on this real sh-t
got a lil’ brother named scando with a baby face and he k!ll sh-t
tryna shoot a scene to this movie, i don’t think i need a director
no cameras, just fifty shots in this hammer, tryna blam ’em
got a mac on me, three hoes with a bag on me like santa
when i was sippin’, we was k!llin’ sh-t and then celebrate it with a fanta
man, this n-gga, he ran through like ten stop signs
on my mama, you would think this chopper
from the west, to where i hit your little brother
i’m tryna bag up me a meal ticket
b-tch suck d-ck like i’m bill clinton
told a b-tch that i don’t pimp no more
i was lyin’, b-tch, i’m still pimpin’

[pre-chorus: d-lo]
swear to god that we poppin’, n-gga
my rudeboys be poppin’ n-ggas
(one word, them n-ggas be dead, and i wouldn’t lie to n-ggas)
you ain’t never caught you no body, i can’t slide with n-ggas
you ain’t never kicked you a high-speed, i can’t ride with n-ggas

- d lo lyrics

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