T-Dips
T Dips
New York, NY
The second time on the mic is when I start to rhyme tight Now I'm loosed up because I just juiced up Cranberry & vodka got me all Goosed up And if I had me a rope then you'd be all noosed up So you can try to chew me all up and spit me back out From my fly-ass lips is where these words come out Lips like a brother, I flow like a hustler Suburban white boy but I can still freakin' smother All you fake-ass rap wannabes out there I'll take your instrumental and make it better if you dare Gimme two shots and I'll tear your stuff up Tomatoes thrown at you, I turn 'em to ketchup A lot of chasin' you'll be doin' if you're trying to catch me I'm on top of that 1-2-3 podium Yeah, baby, this is gold-medal stuff I can talk the talk because I'm like the Cold Crush