Video Musik

D.I.T.C. - Where Ya At (feat. Big Pun & Milano)
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PERFORMING ARTISTS
D.I.T.C.
D.I.T.C.
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Christopher Rios
Christopher Rios
Songwriter
R. Morgan
R. Morgan
Songwriter
Rodney Lemay
Rodney Lemay
Songwriter
Lake
Lake
Songwriter
Emerson
Emerson
Songwriter
Palmer
Palmer
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Show
Show
Producer

Lirik

Ayo, it's finally done, the two nicest niggas unite as one Collide the sun with the moon BOOM! I leave you blinded from my full of clips Hawk the world into hell when a bullet spit Crucifix myself to the sun, now who you with? Enter my world of doom, consume fear and feel the panic I ram a lightning bolt between the earth and the moon and curl the planets I'm pan-Atlantic with lyrics spannin' for galaxies Battle me, mathematically, I'm givin' your wisdom a cavity Rapidly flowin', controllin' the time Flip over the line, I'm blowin' your mind with just a flow and a rhyme I'm Hogan in his prime, strong and fast You can bomb and blast, c'mon, you'll still be on your ass It's satisfaction guaranteed, with Fiction like Quentin Tarantin' Kickin' your baddest dreams, shit you haven't seen I have to be perfectly honest We should have an anniversary to acknowledge the way I work the ebonics I verbally vomit on novice niggas that try to get us with garbage lyrics My style delivers outside the Outer Limits I'm like the pyramids 'cause every point is precise Now you know me for life, Six Pun, Cuban flooded wit' ice If I ain't home wit' my fam (Where you at?) Stash crib, cuttin' grams (Where you at?) I'm wit' my niggas and we're rollin' and controllin', hold that! If I ain't deep in some ass (Where you at?) I'm in the jeep wit' the stash (Where you at?) I'm wit' my niggas and we're rollin' and controllin', baby! Yo, I camel-clutch mics, a truce gahzuntite Guess I'm allergic when shit ain't done right You spread disease while the vaccine is what I write Couldn't avoid this, sit tight All aboard ship, on my voy-age Purple Explorers, seven warriors my aura You tied a [?] and boredom, Milan bring more than offer High exalted, boned a Lazarus sculpture You penny-weight style While my piece alone around three pounds I had to serve nerds, and throw it down, stuck for a reason Laid up a whole season, pen and pad style Honeymooners like Jack Gleason Blessin' the whole reason Until my niggas maxed out, hold the axe out Whoever front, saw the procedure All you thugs now wit misdemeanors I seen y'all in clubs, poppin' Zima Fake minks wit' ninety-percent of it beaver Thought y'all was killin' 'em? I play the back wit' two dime Brazilians Cogniac and ice buckets, puttin' a slight chill to them Rock platinum like I sold a million Trapped on my island like Gilligan Really, Manhattan niggas here, you gotta feel 'em It ain't hard, sent to Parkwest Hall Straight up the Malcom Boulevard Wit' no bars, I write scriptures Me on beats is a fatal attraction when I give you the business Caught a throat virus for spittin' sick shit Got niggas wildin; like "Who is this?" On this '99 classical edition If I ain't home wit' my fam (Where you at?) Stash crib, cuttin' grams (Where you at?) I'm wit' my niggas and we're rollin' and controllin', hold that! If I ain't deep in some ass (Where you at?) I'm in the jeep wit' the stash (Where you at?) I'm wit' my niggas and we're rollin' and controllin', baby!
Writer(s): Christopher Rios, Greg Lake, Rodney Lemay, R Morgan, Keith Emerson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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