Fightin Words

[Prod. by C-Lance] [Verse 1: Diabolic] Check 1, check 2, 'Bolic to the rescue F.U.C.K. the world when I step through Got that fresh new,real raw,uncut Dumb down underground and educate these dumb fucks Poured out blood guts filled it with some lime green Crystallize purple cess to burn and share with my team FUCK Y'ALL, cops seen the picture on the wide screen And the Rebel Army yo calling leave the crime scene Exhibit A, baggy pants on the footage live stream No, hipster shit so my dick can fit inside jeans Nineteen, ninety shit New York's a warzone Knock 'ya light's out cut the power to your jaw bone Lord knows Diabolic's 'bout to make a pit stop Where these pussies hang like these pigs are Lil Kim's twat Psycho, with a sick plot like Alfred Hitchcock Hip hop, so you out in flip flops with gym socks [Hook: Diabolic] Soldier's lace your boots up Ladies lose your high heels I'm not what you're used to Difference is, I'm real And I feel it's my job To do something about that Fuck the guys feeling otherwise Meet me out back One Time, COME ON Two Times, COME ON Three Times...these are Fightin' Words One Time, COME ON Two Times, COME ON Three Times...these are Fightin' Words [Verse 2: Diabolic] Yo check the game plan I don't wanna shake hands Rather see you face plant like Weezy on a skate ramp Caveman missing links in my dnA strands My supporters would slap the shit out Lil Wayne fans I don't like the radio I don't care where Jay stands I don't Watch The Throne or Kanye in his Ray-Banns State champ, treated like Elvis out in Graceland They pale in comparison, albino to a spray tan Fat cats, paint cans, break dance cardboard Art form mashed out, how about some hardcore? Sharp sword or razor blade ain't afraid to start wars Hard body Diabolic's known to break a sharks jaw Far more raw that front line bomb drop Nonstop slaughter every corn pop on top Songs hot like ya Mom's twat feeling Sean’s cocked Full court buzzerbeater winning was a longshot [Hook: Diabolic] [Interlude (2x): Diabolic] Soldier, move up I don't give two fucks Who what, when why where Don't confuse us [Verse 3: Diabolic] DJ's ill breaks Serrato was a milk crate Rhyme the beats on a maxi single massive pill take Labels making stacks table scraps on my meal plate Kept it real with a record deal and it feels great Kill snakes, cut throats, strategize the utmost Art of war paint a masterpiece with every brush stroke Shoot for the stars crosshairs on my gun scope Training like Rocky Balboa with a jump rope Jump Colt, .45 caught a high from blunt smoke Now Big L and Pun's ghost live from what I just wrote Come close focus on the beast as he mutates Screw face like your boombox ate my Clue tape Fools shake cause I booby trapped their escape hatch Payback fightin' to the death in a cage match May slap your favorite DJ until he plays that Red dough hypodermic needle in the haystak [Chorus: Diabolic]