Diesel Lyrics by The Alchemist (feat. Kool G Rap)
You know, I’ve clipped a lot of guys in my life
Close friends, guys I didn’t know
I didn’t always agree that the guy should be clipped
But I never questioned the orders and I never went off half-cocked
I gotta get back in the streets
That’s where all the money is these days
From a kid alone, I turned into this grown image
From the Popeye cartoons to that grown spinach
A young man prone to business, he his own chemist
Three quarter mink stone pendants, a stone menace
Sleeping with redbone twins, TEC with a chrome finish
Parked in a Benz dark-tinted, he gettin’ domed in it
Massive rocks turn city blocks to Stonehenges
Stoned dependence, they visiting methadone clinics
Every breadwinner every kid in my zone mimic
Keys to the city, chase every dollar that roam in it
Life too short, numbers up, God don’t loan minutes
Some will see R.I.P soon as this poem ended
Ay, you shut up (I’m moving diesel on ’em)
You just listen (I’m moving diesel on ’em)
I gotta get back in the streets
That’s where all the money is these days (I’m moving diesel on ’em)
Thoroughbred DNA in my jugular, I’m a born hustler
You was born to be in my service, you’s a born butler
I’m from the trenches where paper touchers are long tuckers
I’m Big Red hangin’ n***** from the eleventh floor
Settle scores, your pussy selling whore is Eleanor
Jimmy “Clean Hands”, what you claiming a felon for?
They gon’ find you in yellow drawers when the metal draw
Decomposed like Skeletor with his melon tore
I’m from that place where it’s shady faces and lady rapers
Empty fridgerators, cribs with cold radiators
Low wages and front page of the paper makers
Got that behavior like every one of your neighbors hate ya
Drug dealers be the role models, they money stars
Inside the bar, throw a hundred yards in your honey bra
It’s how the beef shit pop off when the gunnin’ start
Life trials be the lifestyle in these slummy parts
I guess you mad I’m a rich fuckin’ man (I’m moving diesel on ’em)
You got some fuckin’ nerve (I’m moving diesel on ’em)
Let him talk, don’t interrupt (I’m moving diesel on ’em)
What the fuck you come cryin’ to me about?
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