Dukedagod - War feat. Cam'ron & Hell Rell Lyrics lyrics

rate me

Hell Rell

Yeah this sound like a movie right here

Well fuck it, here go the soundtrack

Bullets & Gunsmoke, Dipset

Verse 1

Hell Rell:

Now if we was playing pro ball, every game I'd be slamming on 'em

Step on my competition, yeah Duke I'm standing on them

I ran up on 'em, pussy ain't have his hammer on him

Pulled the cannon on him, blammed it on him, 'til I jammed it on him

I got some Arabs hittin' me with coke

And when we on the phone we be speakin' in some codes

A camel is a ounce, a kufi is a brick

Tell him I need 5 kufis, and meet me on the strip

Yeah I know "Stafalla", but I'm tryna cop some cars

Run up in the club, that's poppin' and cop the bar

And everything I hear is garbage to me

You know where I be faggot, bring the drama to me

I'm presidential nigga, Bush shouldl pay homage to me

I'm puttin' in a lotta work man, acknowledge a G

Yes, yes, a G I am, holla if you need some grams

I'm poppin' off by myself, I don't need no Cam

I don't need you Jim, Juelz I got these niggaz

I don't care if they small or some stocky niggaz

I just grace 'em then erase 'em, I forgot these niggaz

What they name again

What they claim again

Yeah these faggots hate it, cuz I'm they rapper's favorite

You procrastinated so I got you assasinated

Shoot 'em up, bang bang, bullets in his Red Monkeys

Thought he was a gorilla, naw he a dead monkey

Hook

Cam'ron:

We blastin' big Tecs (Tecs)

Cashin' big checks (ch-ching)

Niggaz talkin' right, I ain't heard shit yet (Nope)

We'll leave the dude flooded, and his bitch wet (wet)

And the kids go "Look dad, Dipset"

Verse 2

Cam'Ron:

If this was football, I'd be scoring touchdowns

It's the circus though, I see some tough clowns (clowns)

I don't need you Rell, nor DukeDaGod

No 40. or J.R., I go stupid hard (stupid hard)

What you dealing pops

How you feeling 'ock

My floors come up, walls spin, ceiling drop

Not the crib, that's the car when I wheel or not

Plus a partition, bath, bar, kitchen

Yeah pa shittin' (shittin')

They say y'all didn't

Every car I driven, yeah from hard living

Hang with Mariah, spent the night with Vivica

Every tabloid asking Cam "What you did with her"

Just friends dog, "Word to everything"

Yes, word to everything, now focus on this heavy bling

Eat at Reyo's, fettucini, spaghetti things

Cheddy heavy so fuck being some petty king

Can't be nice right, can't be arrogant

I stab a bitch over ice, Nancy Kerrigan

Slash Tonya Harding, see the mobster's mobbin'

You don't like us right, we got your momma boppin'

She look like Amy Fisher, "Don't the Range be bigger" (Usually)

That's a baby-momma car, you can't game me nigga

My Royce a quarter mill, chain a half a mill

Earrings another 3 quarter mill, you oughta chill

Hook