Dot Vs. TMR (Original Version) Lyrics
Intro: D-Dot and The Madd Rapper
Alright, Fears
Goes Out To My Brooklyn Niggas
Dis how we do yo
For Da Bitches
D-Dot Vs. The Madd Rapper
I Love The Bitches
Verse 1: d-dot
Yo, can I get a whut whut...like jigga
Crazy cat
Dem fly niggas, puff wit my niggas
Went from a low income, to high figgaz
Poppa die now, cuz I supply niggas
Yo...it ain't my fault...it ain't my fault
I got caugt, top of new york, like the war report
To the streets: thank you for your support
Verse 2: the madd rapper
Yo yo yo
I'm known to be the maddest, in the mc field
No respect in 9-8, in 9-9 its real
Got a big record deal, shippin' platinum plus
Hip hopperz and chart topperz, that be us
No more laughin' at us, no more back of the bus
Gettin' hed in the wip, high on crack and the dust
Too hard
My soldierz, locked down in da ??penz??
Yo dat brooklyn bullshit, we on it again
Come on
Hook: Scratched
Who Da Fuck Are You
D-Dot
The Madd Rapper
I've Been Conversing With The Madd Rapper
(2x)
https://www.elyricsworld.com/dot_vs._tmr_(original_version)_lyrics_the_madd_rapper.html
Verse 3: d-dot
Uh uh, see I'm a rich cat, mansion and da yaught
Dancin' in da hot spot, brancin' burnin' hot
I gotta 9v12 parked in the lot
Drop, shut 'em down, open up shop
Verse 4: madd rapper
Yo, if a bar were a hundred dollarz, baby gimme some mo
If the pussy is all dried up, baby gimme some mo
Four o'clock in the mornin', you hear a knock at da door
Madd rappers fuckin' your daughter, in the backseat of the 4
Verse 5: d-dot
Where my doggz at, matter of a fact where my broadz at
A little nigga, but all dat
Catch me at da hot spots, I dot, ice rocks
Bounce wit a bad bitch, twist her back in tight nots
Verse 6: madd rapper
So ya'll niggas don't wanna play my records ha
Ya'll actin like my shit ain't as hard as john blaze ha
Fuckin' put me in yo magazine ha
Bitches don't wanna give me my propz ha
Well fuck you ha
Hook:
Verse 7: d-dot
Yo, dey wann sip mo(et) on my livin' room floor
Jackin' my car keys and rippin' my range ro(ver)
Backstage passes, and broads wit big asses
Hed wit crystal and champagne glasses
Verse 8: madd rapper
Uh uh, I know you heard me on your radio
True
And you know I stole your stereo
Ooh
Times is hard, can't find a job
Got wit 50 cent yo, showed ya'll cats how to rob
Verse 9: d-dot
Yo, you don't wanna play around, you don't wanna play around
For 50 chips, i'll lay it down
Pop number ones, and pop from my guns
Stacks for my daughters, and nots for my sons
Verse 10: madd rapper
Ay-yo hi my name is, whut my name is
And I walk around wit a stainless
Stay wit b-boy, I fly wit birds that are brainless
And one hit record, son I'm about to be famous
Hook:
