Bad Lucc - Top Of The Diamond lyrics

rate me

Ft. Problem, Ab-Soul, Punch

(Intro)

You gotta think about what we got in this game fo', man

Huh? Was it the rep?

Was it so our names could ring out on sum' fucking ghetto street corners, man?

Nah man, there’s games beyond this fuckin' game!

(Verse: Bad Lucc)

When ya niggas stop playing I stop playing the field

Like Cali niggas in Vegas I want mo'

I’ve exceeded my limit, limited living

I didn’t want much, couple of trips, she need a clutch capture

My extravagant mind thinking of new ways to be betta than most

& I’m rarely seen like a Blue Jay

Hall of fame shit, I been that, in my city I’m a wizard

Cali king, dance wit the devil down in the blizzard, ah

I’m out there running wit scissors but fuck it

Greatness come wit a price & I have become it

Feeling sum' type of way & so they stare, go to share

See all of this new age hype is like the Converse City stairs

Watch me, kind of cocky I deserve to be!

Decade in the booth so let’s be clear this shit is surgery

Sweat rag in my pocket cuz I’m known fo' going in

I could do this in my sleep so if it's beef, ya want me, damn!

(Verse 2: Ab-Soul)

Abstract ass hole

Dazzle the competition everywhere I tip toe

Had rappers on they heals way befo' the deal, bro

Deal wit it, get off my dill pickle fo' real

From a place where ya was raised to keep a steal wit ya

Drop a splash of cognac to the pavement praying they still wit ya

& they still miss ya, just missed the terrorist threats

Just after they went thru' TSA wit concealed missiles

In my carry on luggage, ya got a problem?

I’ll show ya what bad luck is, I won’t even punch

No pun intended, my president’s black & will fuck ya up

& no it ain’t taken a nap, but the gun is tucked

Is it just me or is it that yo time is up?

& every minute counts, did ya pass math o' what?!

Get to steppin' befo' I pick ya apart, spit on yo heart

Laugh at yo pain like I did Kevin’s

(Verse 3: Punch)

The combination of Donald Goines & Mickey Cohen

Literary gangsta to the core, try & spar wit the boy

Steph & Illy, ain’t no cake walk

This a wake waiting to happen, ya niggas luv napping

My Top Dawg faction running the atlas

Running amuck, on niggas who passed & wasn’t proactive

Yeah, that is the walk of shame crawling back

& tell this call em back once we get a couple southern acts

Well, ain’t too much changed

Flo' seat like a game, mile high private planes

& we did it our way, just hand in bars & business

Light years ahead of niggas, this is Stargate

Yea, the floss is real, prove the million dollar deal

On the treadmill, I’m that trill

No mo' runnin’ in place, we’ll still run up in yo place

& have ya runnin’ yo safe, or I’ll have Mack do it

(Verse 4: Problem)

Make way fo' the ratchet rapper, the matress thrashing

Outlasting the last rapper ya thought was betta

Weed color lighter than feathers, I’m heavy high

Was dealing dee befo' Heavy died

Got ‘em screaming like a scary ride but this ain’t magic mountain

Fuck, then bust, taste the magic fountain

Go against me, that’s a tragic album

I’m the winna bitch, ya the ugly hoes at the pageant pouting

They flock garbage, call out targets cocked & aim

Turn em into past & fast forward, Lebron James

Yea we balling, feel like dunking on a nigga

Pulling out wit hoes, all in they face, Hollywood parking on a nigga

See me shining so there’s no need to discuss figures

Shit bumping, I’m popping, watch out fo' puss nigga

Weed burn in yo face like mace, watch Puff nigga

& I turn my clubs all back on marks