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DigDat – Daily Duppy Lyrics

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Part 1

Ayy, ayy
(Free Clips)
Ayy, ayy
(Free S)
Ayy, ayy
(Free Scars)

My buj runs black like Chyna
I ain’t got the light like Tyga
Whip that, use no bicarb
I’ll make my man swim, no lifeguard
I was so low, tryna stain me a nine bar
Now I’ve got more green than Hyde Park
They hate on DigDat
First time I grip that I was eleven
DSQ for my denim
Shank on my waist, won’t bend like Beckham
I wanna do his and hers
But I can’t find me a bae
I’m flying away
Like Trap, got paper plans
Fuck them bitches, I gotta get gwop first
TSG tryna put us in vans
If I get nicked, won’t converse
Don’t say it’s here where you got served
Feds might stomp the yard
And if I get nicked, won’t snitch
So I doubt they’ll drop that charge
Monday, my ting from Dubai
And I got one in South, she’s brown (Hmm, peng)
I’m out in the town
My young boy fly it, he’s flying back ’round
And Shankz got best of both
On the M way, let him get shit sold
He’s tryna make ‘caine turn rock
So he might not roll if I get a big show
But broski went O too, put on his sim, made like three
(Ayy, ayy)
I got my ex so I’m vex all the time
I don’t ring back when she’s tex’ing my line
Caught a Section 18 with a fifteen inch
Left that road lock arff
Bro had it out but the ting did jam
Lucky that corn didn’t pop off
Feds at my yard in boots
‘Cause I had super drugs
Now I need some links
I’m not sure, who’s got grub?
And I got a Rolex like Wiley
When the cats bell fast, I’m doublin’
Bro, these teeth ain’t tiny
If we slap one, it’s disturbing London
And she’s still out with her ex
But when we sex, she says she’s mine
Two watches, I don’t know which one tells that time
Remember outside, I was rolling with stones
Tryna beat all this rock
Answer my phone like, “wagwan miss”
I really wanna beat this thot
When I walk past, they flick their weave
Man do jobs like Steve
Deliver O’s, break that prof’, we just eat
Got soft in the pot, just boil it
Grease that dots and oil it
I got slapped with thirteen years
I was thirteen, read that on my toilet
I don’t rate them olders
Hate on me ’cause I’m young and I get it
Mad how I dicked her down
Then I gave her back to her man like, “tek it”
Got hoes tellin’ hoes they’re mine
Then someone’s lying, it can’t be true
(She’s lying)

Part 2

Out late with men in black
Made us wanna be bad boys too
Sent her shop for rizla
Make sure you get two packs and juice
Just got a location, bro I can’t wait ’til I find this yute
Long stick in the whip like Django
Now I’m on the sat nav finding routes
Shankz got rock, he don’t sell herbo
Seven G’s, he’ll do three hundred
I was in OT, never done F
But I still had to work these numbers
And my next door was a Kit-Kat
Telling me I’m too loud like carni
He said, just whisper
Cah you might get caught with the smarties
I ain’t got a wifey, she just bops
Comes ’round and teeths this lingo
Do it up in a microwave, soft
And make sure you open the windows
That man looked like a fed
And I served him, ’til this day, I wonder
Now I’m giving them busy signal
If I get shots on unknown number
Cats on my line get cold feet
So my young boy got shots in his sock
Bro got it in a pot, watch it sizzla
He’s tryna get this pack solid as a rock
Get a invitation, no graduation, can’t be stop
Bro just wanna pop corn, told them, don’t get your party shot
My man ain’t been on nuttin’
And he’s been like that from a youngen

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