Day One

Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah! Like that Yeah! Like that Yeah! Like that D.I.T.C., '97 So what you sayin'? [Verse 1: Diamond D] Now, it's the mad magician with the ill deposition No repetition, holdin' down Bronx traditions My composition simply squash the competition Step up and get beat into a submission 'Cause this musician with the street intuition 735 fuel-injected transmission My opposition will have to recognize my steez Exotic trees leave a trail of scuffed up knees So please, you couldn't touch this cat with a stick Quick to inflict tricks, blaze up in the flicks Son, I'm sick and you could put that on my mama Exclamation point, quotation, comma Lay up on the beaches when I'm down in the Bahama The skills go back to the days of Wonderama So pass the scama, son, it's time to get this money So we can relax and recline where it's sunny [Verse 2: Big L] I went from standin' on the corner sellin' cocaine To rippin' shows live on stage for hoes yellin' my name To be precise, rippin' mics is the light of my life You frontin' like you trife, but never pulled a heist in your life The price of my ice is sky-high, I'm a fly guy That's every thug's dream, I really love cream, it's in my bloodstream You mad 'cause I got more chicks than you, more bricks than you More .9's and extra clips than you Where I live, it ain't a nice town, you can't walk around iced-down Some clown probably gettin' stuck right now Peace to D.I.T.C., Show and A.G Fat J-O-E, Diamond D, Lord Finesse and me I'm from the East Coast, this is how we roll in New York A bunch of rowdy niggas holdin' the fort Jackin' creeps, packin' heat, these Harlem streets is for keeps Much love to all my peeps who got covered with sheets [Chorus: Fat Joe] Yo, most these rap cats don't know where it started, where it came from We been reppin' this shit since day one Diggin' In The Crates originators Why niggas playa hate us knowin' damn well they can't fade us? [Verse 3: A.G.] You better take me out quick, 'cause I'm accurate when I bust mine And make it count like Jordan at crunch time Just in case I play Fishburne and double up on 9's You could never make it rain, or stop my sunshine So I keep eyes on these chumps the whole time Take note of your technique like we scheme on dimes Disregard your truth, fuck your heart! Put a slug in me, it'll be marriage 'til death do us part Until then, master this art and kill them With the pen it's dramatic, automatics, I commit sins Hold my head, but when I've had it, I test chins If that ain't real, then feel the stainless steel Bang 'em and hang 'em like they did our relatives Thought he was the best on the mic that ever lived? Negative! Wu-diggity, if you with me, then say, "Word!" Lets get twisted like bottlecaps, (and) create like Spielberg [Verse 4: Lord Finesse] Check the referral, man, my whole squad's thorough We worldwide, niggas just nice in one borough We all gleam, plus we fiend for more cream You got some nice players, they just on the wrong team, naaah'mean?! As the world turns To who it concern, we'll set you straight like a perm Rap apostle, lyrical-type Picasso Kinda hostile, nothin' less than colossal You dig me like fossils, be the cat with the groovy soul A lot of rappers out here actin' with no movie roles You know the deal I represent skills and niggas with bent grills that live to make a mill On the real, that's my motto, too hard to follow Will die in sorrow before I'm goin' out like Gravato Hard to hit like Lotto, underworld role models D.I.T.C., we be them cats of tomorrow [Chorus: Fat Joe] Most these rap cats don't know where it started, where it came from We been reppin' this shit since day one Diggin' In The Crates originators Why niggas playa hate us knowin' damn well they can't fade us? [Verse 5: O.C.] Holdin' it down for D.I.T.C, niggas stink like feces Comin' against raw dogs, you lost! The way I stimulate rhyme in rhythmatic timin' On beat, off-beat, drunk flow, here we go Assignments handed out Each individual stand out, carryin' his own clout Phenomenal Moses of rap, I pose a threat Foes I put 'em on a block like a hole in the pen Lyrical genocide on the witty side Niggas give me respect due, like the pope in a synagogue Who weighin' my odds? O.C. far from a fraud You waste my time, nigga, so I bag your broad Blow your mind, ditto, with no conscience I decide the law, motherfucker, I'm Congress This concludes my repertoire of what I be on Emcees make way for mines and get peed on Fuck that!