D.I.T.C.
Foundation
Yo, yo, yo ..

Chorus: [Diamond D]
We got the foundation, time to lock shit
Ladies look no more we got this
D.I.T.C. spits the hot shit
And while you busy poppin' shit we're poppin' Cris
Ain't no stoppin' this like, pot and ses
See it's all laced out wearing rocks and shit
On the set n***as start to cockblock and shit
Hating when we come through your metropolis

[Dimaond D]
I like the finer things in life, rings and bikes
Expensive whips, first-class trips
Seven days cruises, honey don't trip
SL class if ya heard from fit
Platinum cards, with no credit limit
Tiffany lamps, certified authentic
H-class minerals with no floors in it
Be one two, with the windows all tinted
And I'll be all in it, Tommy Hill said it
Everything is paid for, mami not rented
Two albums deep, it's all documented
Y'all little monkeys gon' see in a minute
Look, G-O-L-D in a minute
'Bout to double that, and the Benz bubble black, hater!
It's diamonte on ya set
Throwin' all G's and charge a jet
[ O.C. ]
I'm doin' time in the rap game
Sorta like a bid up North, both one and the same
My slang keep comin' steady numbin ya brain
Like substance abuse, some lines are cocaine
I get ya open, my stuff be potent'
Two pulls a pass for three n***as smoking
It's no joking when it comes to this
On occasion I might pop a bottle of Cris'
With a wrist full of ice on the bracelet
Trade rhymes in for cash, money I stash
For the future, treat more wis' than Peter Luger
For lyrical fitness I train with Luke Duva
Incorporate lyrical bust with, fist to cuss with, style worth a million bucks
For this I got love, not lust
If I lay her down with no fear then I means I wanna fuck!

[ Hook ]

[A.G.]
My flow, be sicker than yours
Hoes, bounce gimme some mo'
Wanna rap with me? Then gimme some dough
Want a track from me? Then gimme some dough
I sport those type of clothes that excite the hoes
That's why ice the roll and light the dro'
Love is love, y'all n***as gettin' sheisht with yours
Diamond beats hittin' harder than Tyson blows
I might explode, once I grab the mic and blow
Claim you don't like the flow, will wanna bite the flow
Pop bubbly, catch me in the club playin' Bugsy
Get Dirty like rugby, it could get ugly
I rock mines and cop top of the line cars
Then charge you twentie-thou', only drop nine bars
Slide the dike men, cop about nine jars
To trig or tone come home while we rap when you behind bars
[Lord Finesse]
N***as is finito, when me and my peeps blow
Name at the game, stack dough and keep blow, fo' sho
We straight, better see yaselfves
We seein' more chips than the qibla else
On a club night we chillin', watching the thugs fight
Iced out, n***a shining like floodlights
Rolling with grimy n***as, dirty like mud-fights
Throwing it up, while you sipping on Bud-Light
Steady balling, why you stop the thing
Blind you with rocks and links, make ya drop ya drink
On some slick shit, dress-up, dipshit
Floss with rocks and stones you don't mind getting hit with
Don't sleep, me and my crew's deep
Whether in the air, on four wheels or two feet
Salute the new chiefs and the feel we stay thirst
Fuck freestylin; nowadays you pay first

[ Hook ]