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letra de stick up men - mickey diamond

[intro]
“hey, got a phone? come on, come on, got a phone?
over there, two n-ggers just stole my truck
believe that sh-t?
motherf-cker, see that?
i’ma motherf-ckin’ soldier, you know what i’m sayin’?
and drunk”

[bridge: jay royale]
umbrella, b-tch, check it

[verse 1: jay royale]
they know who we are
speed calls, entrenched the dior
in designer sneakers enjoyin’ or breezin’ pr
hardest cold n-ggas, trope get rode in the er
plush with a couple of bucks stuffed in the g-star from brimore
too high, i’m goin’ led up
it’s all peppеr, catch up
eastside, so why apply pressure?
wе went from shootin’ dice to rhyming nice
to catchin’ flights
how they consider me a racist sippin’ henny white
we run through trees like lumberjacks, pumpin’ crack
my jail n-ggas used to green dot money packs
screamin’, “the world is really ours”, guilty as charged
since a teen had a thing for whippin’ drug dealer cards and fly tennis
pretty women in my-my tennis
the rhyme style was hot penned
don’t get offended, it’s mine
blowin’ the rhymes, floatin’, these lines potent
we in thousand dollar sheets, sleep with one eye open, the don
the munster rugby like grey poupon
in vintage low wear
n-ggas be ventin’, they gettin’ no where
wherever you n-ggas be pumpin’ i’ma pose there
with a fifth tucked, n0body move, it’s a stick up
[bridge 2]
“let me tell you somethin’
n0body goes to jail unless they want to
unless they make themselves get caught
they don’t have things workin’ out
i know what i’m doin’, right? that thing’s organised with these guys
you who goes to jail? n-ggers stick up
you know why they get caught? because they fall asleep in the getaway car”

[verse 2: mickey diamond]
yo, jay, split the cigarello, fill it with dank
frank costello, these murders be gang related
we cover they face with pillows
coverd in track and trace, evidence deleted, backsp-ce
we made it back safe before the feds can crack the last case (di-diamond)
rappers say my name and got the ass stains on their tongue
the 99 swingin’ a hole in one
i bet your favorite rapper don’t own a gun
shine bright as the golden sun
underground rackers, i’m controlin’ them funds
stackin’ or foldin’ ’em
old-blue eyes, the ray liotta
fans cuttin’ my bars with bakin’ soda
umbrella takin’ over
heavyweight name, could break a shoulder
i don’t know how i’ma make it sober, check
the vintage tommy flip you like karate
this is no fair, you rappers be droppin’ and gettin’ no where
whatever you n-ggas pumpin’ i’ma go stare
keep your lips shut, n0body move, it’s a stick up
[outro]
“pull over, pull over, right here
yo, i thought we goin’ straight to the spot, man
n-gga, i said “pull over”
for what?
pull over!”

- mickey diamond

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