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40th Boys - The Diplomats
Written by：A. Holmes/M. Shemer/C. Byrd
It's scram jones n**ga
Yea a mafia n**ga
40th boys
It's dipset
Purple city duke the God
Ayo yall know how the f**k we do this sh*t
Ayo
Now all my real n**gas pop it off
Shoot 'em until his top come off
I'm gettin' money so I gotta floss
'Cause I'm the boss
When I come out the thugs come out
Stomp him out till the blood come out
He frontin' let a slug come out
I'll show you what a thug about
Now all my real n**gas pop it off
Shoot 'em until his top come off
I'm gettin' money so I gotta floss
'Cause I'm the boss
When I come out the thugs come out
Stomp him out till the blood come out
He frontin' let a slug come out
I'll show you well a slug come out
Yo I see his face tightnin'
But I ain't with the face fightin'
Try to imitate tyson
He gonna taste lightin' that fire n**ga
I see some gangstas on my right and the left of me
Keep the tech on me
Black gloves and a vest on me
Our Jesus resurected
Tv's in the lexus
Breezy's wanna sex us
Freezy on the necklace
It's mafia where
A mafia here
Throw your hands in the air for a mafia yea
I start rumbles when I come through
Go bundle for bundlepack for pack n**ga
I got some killas that'll come through and slump you
I hear them mumble about the coke they got
Till them n**gas ran in they spotsand broke they lock
These clown n**gas wanna smoke a maf
Now leave 'em on the floor
Catch him slippin' while he in front of the corner store
But I ain't goin' out nope homie I'm squeezin' at you first
Let off shots and leave you in a hurse
Now all my real n**gas pop it off
Shoot 'em until his top come off
I'm gettin' money so I gotta floss
'Cause I'm the boss
When I come out the thugs come out
Stomp him out till the blood come out
He frontin' let a slug come out
I'll show you what a thug about 40 cal
Yea
All my real n**gas pop at ya
40 and a mafia
We gettin' money ho we popular
It get impossible to body ya
Photographers is watchin' ya
My whole block hotter then somalia
40 shoot the hollow points
Hope your vest titanium
They don't want you in New York
Like the west side stadium
Schemin' on your money like a bedstuy
Atm
You beefin' at 7 you dead by 8 pm
Internet chatroom thug
N**gas thinkin' they wolves
But your heart pumpin' racoon blood
But I'm rollin' with them baboons 'cuz
Where we call it brain wash
Shoot your brains in the bathroom tub
I'll bring them crumb snatchers out
For a lump cash amount
We ride up cornerstore got a dutchmaster drought
I'll make funkmaster shout
It's gonna be problems
Call me game you'll be my new son up in harlem
Where we hustle fam more bags than a luggage man
Like box braids keep my knots up in rubberbands
My wrist spring bling my chain summer jam
You should see the hummer fam
The rims do the runnin' man d**n 40 cal
All my real n**gas pop at ya
40 and a mafia
We gettin' money ho we popular
It get impossible to body ya
Photographers is watchin' ya
My whole block hotter then somalia
Now all my real n**gas pop it off
Shoot 'em until his top come off
I'm gettin' money so I gotta floss
'Cause I'm the boss
When I come out the thugs come out
Stomp him out till the blood come out
He frontin' let a slug come out
I'll show you what a thug about
