| Uh, uh, huh, yeah, dah, dah |
| (I'm skippin' jump shit right here) |
| Dah, dee, de, dee, dah, dah |
| Da, dee, dee, dee, dee, dee |
| Dee, dee, dee, dee |
| Dee, de, dee, dah, dah |
| It’s me, big D, the psychotic neurotic |
| Never catch me in the street without some green exotic |
| Fly-ass whip, pockets stay knotted |
| Step outta bounds and wind up, red dotted |
| The socialite with the flows ya like |
| Overweight nigga, dressed in the clothes ya like |
| Probably see me in the club with some hoes ya like |
| And you know I put it down when it’s foes to fight |
| Can’t fuck wit’cha love if ya toes ain’t right |
| I’m on some bullshit but yo, that’s my chosen right |
| That’s cool 'cause all I see is O’s in sight |
| Drop shit that’ll lift every nose in sight |
| Like I’m supposed to do, postin' boo |
| Make you jump around like the Holy Ghost’ll do |
| Let the words get close to you |
| I’ma show you how cats sleep just like the most of you |
| Come on |
| When it comes to spittin' game, I’m the best at that |
| One extreme to another like sex to crack |
| Beatminerz and Swing do, and bless the track |
| And if the L’s too short smoke the rest of that |
| I’m like Triple H flying off the ropes |
| Bring a smile like some coke, fresh off the boats |
| I make, you and your boys take off ya coats |
| And if ya girl talks back, get her off the soaps |
| I’m like fuck you, see I’ma scratch ya name |
| On some big wheel shit when I match the game |
| On the low chillin' with a hatch back in Maine |
| And I still run with niggas that’ll snatch ya frames |
| Yo pardon me, you ain’t catch my name? |
| It’s D-Moody |
| In the Four Seasons about to make a nudie |
| Used to see hard times but now I see booty |
| And quite often be up in the loft |
| And fat asses, titties that are soft and greened out |
| So you might hear me coughin', I’ll make ya dumbass an off |
| And I’ll be the one to put the nails in ya coffin |
| When it comes to spittin' game, I’m the best at that |
| One extreme to another like sex to crack |
| Beatminerz and Swing do, and bless the track |
| And if the L’s too short, smoke the rest of that |
| You get a smack fuckin' with this aristicrat |
| I’m the element that turns coke from this to that |
| You against me, it’s like fightin' fist to bat |
| It’s gonna be hard to smoke when your ribs get cracked |
| Think of that, come on if you think I’m wack |
| Me beatin yo' ass in a mink and hat |
| Bounce off from the scene in a Lincoln Nav |
| So motherfuckin' plush you just sink in the back |
| And I told you heffers before, never before |
| Will you see a beatmaker ever this raw? |
| See me in the streets stunning in a yellow Valor |
| Big D always leave the crowd yellin' for more |
| One of the flyest big niggas you will see |
| If you can figure that black, you will be |
| Overcome with a mild case of lunacy |
| When I drop the LP nigga you will see |
| © SHADES OF BROOKLYN; |
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