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j-diggs – courtside lyrics

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[verse 1: daboii]
b+tch i ain’t trying to catch no vibe, i’m on some player sh+t
book me at your club, secure my bag. no, i don’t pay the b+tch
street n+gga, but i be in them b+tches that the lakers hit
n+ggas always rapping bout that cloth, but never made a hit
got so much respect, they clear the room when i got somthin to say
why is n+ggas talking out they neck like they gon bust a grape?
we might be related. drop a dime, then we gon unrelate
i deal with all my problems. never been the type to runaway
beat it up, thеn beat up on my chest like i’m a f+cking apе
b+tch i already know what you about, now give my bruh a taste
claiming that he eating, but he starving; ain’t have lunch today
and i treat the glock like my b+tch. yes, i’m in love with bae
and we’ll pop up where you stay. where you hiding at?
my lil bro will take your chain, then have you buy it back
i ain’t into playing games. ain’t got no time for that
and if i told you what i made, then yo mind would crash

[verse 2: sauce walka]
made so many millions off of hoes; it don’t matter
b+tch made me three hundred thousand large; get her ass fatter
keep his money with a glass jar; it got shattered
k!ll him. i done leaved his family p+ssed; that’s bad bladder
pimpin the saddle. dipping and dabble, sending the cattle
n+ggas will tattle. your partner the judge, swinging the gavel
crazy how these n+ggas doing time
same n+gga told on you, the one that picked you up to do the crime
n+gga said he keeping a buck, but he dropped the dime
n+ggas say whatever on phones, like feds don’t tap the line
young’ns like to ride with them guns, but scared the pop that iron
sh+t ain’t like the rap videos when the metal start to fly in
grandmas and mamas crying. nephews and sons dying
he’s like a p+ssycat while standing in a pack of lions
way before i went to new york, i was a f+cking giant
had to buy two maybachs just so my birds could slide
i drip in the cut, and bubble up just like peroxide
can’t tell you how many white b+tches i didn’t have topside
slim drop mop slide. gucci flip flop slides
and i had a b+tch’s husband pay me to take his wife courtside
[verse 3: j+diggs]
telling they boy rappers tuck when i come around
i don’t give a f+ck who or what, i shut em down
trying to get a hundred, spend a hundred, get a hundred pounds
k!ll all snitches. broke b+tches get the run around
h+ll to the throne, i don’t condone with these rappers on
i got on the phone, leave him holed like a saxophone
b+tches on my line, wanna shine and get their money up
she just want some d+ck, a little time, and a tummy tuck
n+ggas wanna be you when they see you on your grizzy
i just went and booked another venue, so i’m busy
i just hit a n+gga back to back like i’m drizzy
heard some n+ggas looking for me?
tell them n+ggas, come and get me!
i’m a bay n+gga; i’ll be in the city by the bridges
j n+gga; every time you see me, pretty b+tches
play n+gga; imma show you not the one to do that
who that? the n+gga who might pull up where your crew at
a freak with the twins. couple of 40s in the double clutch
threw a couple shots at his feet; made him double dutch
still in these streets. quarterback; tell them to huddle up
30 for the 30. who ordered that? with a double up
i keep the little b+tch on her sh+t; that’s the boss in me
look and you gonna see it in my drip; that’s the sauce in me
just was on the net viewing n+ggas with the trickery
and bodied any rapper in this game that ever mentioned me (diggs!)



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