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beautiful noise - the diplomats lyrics

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[intro: jim jones]
charlemagne, told you i got you n-gga
holla, yo, sh-t

[verse 1: jim jones]
my homie cash, well he gone for five
send my prayers, do your thing, i’ll be going for mine
sh-t, we live life to the fullest
three hundred and sixty five nights on the strike, that’s a bullet
sh-t, and uncle ricky got a month and some change
and it feels like the garbage truck just dumping the pain
all on my shoulders, i’m warning my soldiers
the nights could get chilly, but the morning’s much colder
i’ve seen summers get cold
and n-ggas do it up until the point they done and the fold
they can’t succ-mb to the cold
those of frostbitten, up north sitting
just like some f-cking lost kittens
they get locked up for carrying boy
doing time underground up in marion, boy
sh-t, i respect you, you do your time like gotti
and come home like that marion boy, holla

[chorus: cam’ron & (jim jones)]
you got weed? (smoke it) you got dice? (roll it)
you got guns? (shoot it) you got a hoe? (stroke it)
(you got money?) spend it (you got cars?) whip ’em
(you caught a bid?) do it (you got kids?) love ’em
you got weed? (smoke it) you got dice? (roll it)
you got guns? (shoot it) you got a hoe? (stroke it)
(you got money?) spend it (you got cars?) whip ’em
(you caught a bid?) do it (you got kids?) love ’em

[verse 2: jim jones]
i gotta keep striving, i gotta keep moving, i gotta keep grinding
if this was the road, and i was a trucker
then sh-t man, i gotta keep driving
through the lies and deception, had to ride through neglection
i’m an insomniac, up all night, pops and moms was an addict, sh-t
my puffing sc-ms is a habit
i need me a contingency plan
my pops with the syringe in his hand
he was leaning and nodding
uncle ricky on missions like afeni was robin
sh-t, you should’ve seen the apartment
all i ever wanted was franks and beans i was starving
crack fiends on the carpet, sh-t
but if it wasn’t for grandma
i swear i’m in love with my grandma
that’s why i only does it for grandma
that’s when i roll in the street
i pray she covers me
from the crown of my head, to the sole of my feet

[chorus: cam’ron & (jim jones)]
you got weed? (smoke it) you got dice? (roll it)
you got guns? (shoot it) you got a hoe? (stroke it)
(you got money?) spend it (you got cars?) whip ’em
(you caught a bid?) do it (you got kids?) love ’em
you got weed? (smoke it) you got dice? (roll it)
you got guns? (shoot it) you got a hoe? (stroke it)
(you got money?) spend it (you got cars?) whip ’em
(you caught a bid?) do it (you got kids?) love ’em

[verse 3: cam’ron]
k!lla.. uh
i figured moves are minor, huh
look at the foods and fibers
the dude with the cubes’ll snipe ya
more tools than snyder
exclusive writer
the jewels are fire
i learned don’t fool with riders, from pac
i don’t need a gun, just a screwdriver
two tires, two pliers, a wrench and a few wires, sh-t
i take it all from the buyers
foreign fire, all from a lighter, call me “macgyver”
need a rehab i’ll call up shania
b-tch hungry, good, we gon’ stall at papayas
take your recession special, yeah you less than special
me and jim jones, extra special
check it, dre to snoop, gotti to ja
dame to jigga, puff to b.i.g., dee and waah
doggie you next up, get your respect up
or a vest can’t protect you when i hit you in your chest, duck
uhh, the big heads done pushed me
you gotta be s-x: d-ckheads is p-ssy, k!lla
i bring the hammers to the gunfight
one night stand, only standing for one night
doggie, cause when it come to that cash
no h0m-, i will jump in that -ss, jumping jack flash
then jump in that jag, jumpsuit
jump back from the coroner, i have you jump in that bag
come with that cash

[chorus: cam’ron & (jim jones)]
you got weed? (smoke it) you got dice? (roll it)
you got guns? (shoot it) you got a hoe? (stroke it)
(you got money?) spend it (you got cars?) whip ’em
(you caught a bid?) do it (you got kids?) love ’em
you got weed? (smoke it) you got dice? (roll it)
you got guns? (shoot it) you got a hoe? (stroke it)
(you got money?) spend it (you got cars?) whip ’em
(you caught a bid?) do it (you got kids?) love ’em

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