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lirik lagu courtside – j-diggs

[verse 1: daboii]
b*tch i ain’t trying to catch no vibe, i’m on some player sh*t
book me at your club, secure my bag. no, i don’t pay the b*tch
street n*gga, but i be in them b*tches that the lakers hit
n*ggas always rapping bout that cloth, but never made a hit
got so much respect, they clear the room when i got somthin to say
why is n*ggas talking out they neck like they gon bust a grape?
we might be related. drop a dime, then we gon unrelate
i deal with all my problems. never been the type to runaway
beat it up, thеn beat up on my chest like i’m a f*cking apе
b*tch i already know what you about, now give my bruh a taste
claiming that he eating, but he starving; ain’t have lunch today
and i treat the glock like my b*tch. yes, i’m in love with bae
and we’ll pop up where you stay. where you hiding at?
my lil bro will take your chain, then have you buy it back
i ain’t into playing games. ain’t got no time for that
and if i told you what i made, then yo mind would crash

[verse 2: sauce walka]
made so many millions off of hoes; it don’t matter
b*tch made me three hundred thousand large; get her ass fatter
keep his money with a glass jar; it got shattered
k!ll him. i done leaved his family p*ssed; that’s bad bladder
pimpin the saddle. dipping and dabble, sending the cattle
n*ggas will tattle. your partner the judge, swinging the gavel
crazy how these n*ggas doing time
same n*gga told on you, the one that picked you up to do the crime
n*gga said he keeping a buck, but he dropped the dime
n*ggas say whatever on phones, like feds don’t tap the line
young’ns like to ride with them guns, but scared the pop that iron
sh*t ain’t like the rap videos when the metal start to fly in
grandmas and mamas crying. nephews and sons dying
he’s like a p*ssycat while standing in a pack of lions
way before i went to new york, i was a f*cking giant
had to buy two maybachs just so my birds could slide
i drip in the cut, and bubble up just like peroxide
can’t tell you how many white b*tches i didn’t have topside
slim drop mop slide. gucci flip flop slides
and i had a b*tch’s husband pay me to take his wife courtside
[verse 3: j*diggs]
telling they boy rappers tuck when i come around
i don’t give a f*ck who or what, i shut em down
trying to get a hundred, spend a hundred, get a hundred pounds
k!ll all snitches. broke b*tches get the run around
h*ll to the throne, i don’t condone with these rappers on
i got on the phone, leave him holed like a saxophone
b*tches on my line, wanna shine and get their money up
she just want some d*ck, a little time, and a tummy tuck
n*ggas wanna be you when they see you on your grizzy
i just went and booked another venue, so i’m busy
i just hit a n*gga back to back like i’m drizzy
heard some n*ggas looking for me?
tell them n*ggas, come and get me!
i’m a bay n*gga; i’ll be in the city by the bridges
j n*gga; every time you see me, pretty b*tches
play n*gga; imma show you not the one to do that
who that? the n*gga who might pull up where your crew at
a freak with the twins. couple of 40s in the double clutch
threw a couple shots at his feet; made him double dutch
still in these streets. quarterback; tell them to huddle up
30 for the 30. who ordered that? with a double up
i keep the little b*tch on her sh*t; that’s the boss in me
look and you gonna see it in my drip; that’s the sauce in me
just was on the net viewing n*ggas with the trickery
and bodied any rapper in this game that ever mentioned me (diggs!)

- j diggs

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