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D.I.T.C. — Make It Official
Artist: → D.I.T.C.
D.I.T.C. — Make It Official — lyrics
{1} party arty:
Hey yo’ rap for rap
Force the flavors when i give em
Stop up with that garbage
And ima hit you with the realism
Cats i pill, rats are real
Ill i give em
He can feel
(?)
Mr weed
Mixed with the hip hop is set
Make you wanna burg up
And let you slug up your clip, ha!
I smoke the shit before shows and in the studio
My hair is wild like coolio
Theres nothing you can do me yo
Me and julio smoke blunts down in school yard
Niggerz were biffin’
My niggez will do ya’ll
_ niggez
With the ghetto dwellers
Can put all my hit list
Styles nigga
My styles will come and get you
World pack tracks like
And fucking pistols
Mcs step and i rip em like tissue
If i was blind dumb def or cripple
My shit is still be official
{2} d-flow:
Flows demand
And niggez can’t understand
And learn who i am
My packet jam like mass transit
Now who you
Trying to come through all my crew
Fucking with your brain
Is my slang on the 1 and 2
Keeping me off the mic
Is like a cock block
What the fuck 9 mil in my drop top
_ son
Is _ niggez on the block done
Then im pissing on your body until the cops come
Because i rap,
don’t think its something sweet
Im in the hood just like you
The streets play for
Sleep nigga weak, its deep like that
We use our guns for talk
In new york we speak like that
Word of mine, g stack is all i want
And if i don’t get that then all i want is blunt
To all them bitches, word is born
You gone
Cause i
And im sipping dom perignon
{3} party arty:
Name party arty
Pa for short
I’m running brother laws of the ghetto
Never obey the court
And my styles the great adventure
The dwellers we _
Make you niggez pay attention when we rhyme
Meaning your style can’t see mine
Heat up like water
Cause its tea time
Making the best press rewind
See i’m that type of guy
that hype a guy
That likes to fly
Niggez heads like kites so wide
I likes to lie
The weed
I’m not a lier, proceed
Or go for your life at the of the empire
(?)
Nigga ima bust your shit
Yeah nigga each nigga
Reach (rich?) nigga
Forget the he say
And with the burners we play
And in the pjs this day we slay
Niggez that act tough
Step up with that wreck stuff
Thinking that they rough cause they rap rough
What up?
I call it bluff
Ain’t nothing sweet
And i don’t get enough
For making niggez feel the mother fucking heat
{4} d-flow:
Who’s the man?
Niggez still don’t understand
While our style expands
Who the fuck needs extra hands
Blow up that chocolate
And leave your whole _
Full of
Cock it
Yeah the glock _
Realism that’s what i’m talking
Fuck how you feel keep it real
Those that know how i do
Then you should know how i deal
Like that aces _
In that fucking game
Niggez know
Tech 9s i toke
Herb smoke fills my brain
Bang the room is bright
Son twist the buddha right
(?)
I’m smoking
All my life i seen static
Never had a quarter
But in my pants i have an automatic
Don’t act neurotic
Cause then i see you shook son
Shots i never took em
Fuck you get them hard looks from?
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