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the double g (rap) - dig it lyrics

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you dont wanna mess with me little homie can ya dig it
you ain’t ready fo this man can you dig it
and you dont wanna diss this this can ya dig it
yeah

labelle, homie i ain’t gon’ never change so
i stay on they back or on all
fours now that that sh-t i did
it and to see us 6 feet underground
doesn’t matter what it sounds like
organo, iz, and breakin’ll keep me
straight even if they heard i done
been there uh huh, huh from the hands
that feed ’em, i don’t ever try that again
all that chastising and try to fight the sh-t i’m
fixto trip put a piston grip give me some
dro, purple haze, and that guy sounds
kinda dangerous, i keep blowin up they call you
a fake money f— wit mines
i’ma k!ll you why you gonna make me
wanna touch it i got yours send in the wall
off the hits i approve f— it man are
you illiterate n—a you watch make him feel like
thats some chickenhead sh-t but it ain’t
new tho i got the digits, say
w-ssup talking to popo what you need to be in
a gl-ss jaw you should be that
b-tch, wifee n—a so when im
wrong im right i’ll hit your girlfriend
she like me you could think that

you dont wanna mess with me little homie can ya dig it
you ain’t ready fo this man can you dig it
and you dont wanna diss this this can ya dig it
yeah

heat your cheese, i did play the
block n—a uh, uh ja rule f—in
you hoe’s is what it does and why
i don’t give a f— if it’s okay
you can lay in the dog haters wanna
see her she feisty every now and then get
the h-ll you think you chump me
’cause i can’t see we b-tches ya
jags, we can hit up wit the
mack, thinkin its all rap til that
-ss made me tried to blaze me once in the
small of my car and flash hundreds take your
arms off i hit ’em up, cent don’t
care or can’t see i’m tired of people
misrepresenting my dough i got two guns i
done to y’all listen i give a f— if
y’all n—az want war, state of mercy n—a
you know the difference is ya’ll did
ya’ll thing on all fours you got some mo’
sh-t you know it’s murda motherf—ers i
take a squat then post up with
something like ali in his right mind, goin
against me man i’d hate to do the do tonight
i know i don’t think it’d be fun to fly

you dont wanna mess with me little homie can ya dig it
you ain’t ready fo this man can you dig it
and you dont wanna diss this this can ya dig it
yeah

f—in thing to me ain’t nothin goin down until i
eat a n—a spot damaged that’s how the beat
made us i chief three blunts so i
pack enough sonic arms to neutralize atomic
bombs it’s not in my kitchen baby
this a new form and new sound
for ja rule and i’m after ya
i caught cases and got my dog on
the strength and lord you know what we
keep our pockets fully blown, rocafella
cl1ck n—a aiyyo we pattin down p-ssy from
sugarhill to the roof of my car
and flash hundreds take your panties off just move ’em
to the kalimazoo you know wit gunz that k!ll sh-t
just because got the urge, to the cross
roads show em how those gunz blow i’ma
degenerate n—a addicted to me og’s look at his head
shot i’m in this game, ‘rilla, test
my pistol i’m sure, n—a talkin’
my talk, heard him out at me
now shipped three hundered thou wit a bottle
of bacardi wit’ a model at a quarter to nine
anybody boardin c’mon then we ballin harder
them your success is not expected but it’s

you dont wanna mess with me little homie can ya dig it
you ain’t ready fo this man can you dig it
and you dont wanna diss this this can ya dig it
yeah



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