Return Of The Diaz Bros. - Tony Touch, Doo Wop, Pain In Da Ass

Okay Tony.

listen to me.

See those two guys over there?

Those are the Diaz Brothers

They got the biggest distribution of mixtapes

From New York all the way to Tucson, Arizona

You know anything — don’t fuck with them Tony

They will stick you underneath the fucking ground

Aiy, hey FUCK THE DIAZ BROTHERS huh?

I bury those motherfuckers

WHO THE FUCK is the Diaz Brothers?

You come and step to me?

Hey fuck you!

If you (if you) wanna know (wanna know)

A little story, about the two.

Well let me tell you we’re the Diaz Brothers bitch

And we doin this just for you (what?) yo yo

Said we doin this just for you (what?) uh uh

Said we doin it.

yeah we doin it.

Well, it’s the rap Tito Puente, mirame de frente

Represent my people, 'ju know mi gente

Yeah, everyday all day para siempre

Diaz Brothers, stay caliente

Hot to death, when me and Wop rock the set

B.K.

to B.X.

straight lockin it (yeah)

All y’all other DJ’s be poppin shit

But when we come around the way I do the opposite

What’s the deal with all that hypocrisy?

On the real y’all need to stop jockin we

Like KRS-One, here’s «My Philosophy»

Settin it off, with my monopoly

If it ain’t over, it’s about to be

And it damn sure ain’t nuttin stoppin me

Sangalo, Toca, cantalo

Cri-mi-nal, tremendo escan-da-lo, what?

Okay Tony, you’re going too far now

These motherfuckers will kill you

They’ll cut off your fuckin testicles

And shove it up your fuckin ass

FUCK THAT!

COME ON!

You want a war?

You fuckin wit Pain in Da Ass;

You’re fuckin wit the best motherfucker!

I’ll stick your fuckin head up ju' fuckin ass

Then I’ll molest your fuckin kids.

FUCK YOU!

Yo.

yo yo yo yo yo yo

On some Prodigy shit, chain drop to my dick

No chokers, exotic shit swingin like Sosa

At the Copa, with Tone Toca, opposite of sob-ah

Lots of Henny-lo and Coca-Cola

Blend tape ho Glock tre-eight blowers

Heavyweight holders, got every state sewed up

Niggas broke?

Nah, pockets Al Roker

Budget like Trinidad and De La Hoya

September 18th, Mixtape Kingz walk up in the ring

Grey minks, turntables hangin on links

Poli' with chinks — the main attaction — Wally’s dyed pink

Shirt matchin, thug fashion, Thug Passion

Compliments of Don King, it’s a Don thing

Fuck a drink, still schemein on that charm King

Chill son, put away the toast, make a toast

To the hated most, Puerto Rican «Rae' and Ghost»

Wop and Tone never leavin the hoes alone

And all the hoes never leavin US alone

And Wop and Tone never leavin the chrome at home

In case we gotta put four up in your dome

Take this fuckin shit

You know WHY THE FUCKIN PEOPLE LOVE ME?

Cause I’m FUCKIN REAL!

I tell you what the FUCK’S on my mind, OKAY?!

Okay.

It’s the Return of the Jedi;

Now tell me who the hell said I

Couldn’t bring it to any boriqua tierras

From L.A. back to N.Y. on the red eye

Toca, holdin it down on the M-I

(The M.O.) used to be «Listen to My Demo»

All dem vogue now with no problemo

Before I do a show, have my dinero

I’m talkin to all you pendejos!

Yo.

yo yo

My rhymes get spit like a gajo

My nines get the clips with the hollows

Five carat chips in my Movado

Doo Wop, spic half Cubano

Who copped six and used to have the milano

Who got your main chain vicked at the Apollo

Where Eric B. and Rakim would «Follow, the Leader»

Many nights got my dick swallowed at the Fever

By any white black or Pediqua, Maria, Chiniqua

Had em all player, fucked em and played em

You loved em and date em

Gave em an ultimatum

Talk about that kid Wop, I hate him

So cut him off or I’mma blaze him —

BROTHER YOU’RE SOFT

You come and step to me?

Hey FUCK YOU!

Those guys they fuckin talk too much

All they concerned about is fuckin pussy and drinking

The booze, and the coochie

I got those guys fuckin soft man

They can’t fuck with me

I’ll bury those fuckin cock-a-roaches

FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER!

I DON’T GIVE A FUCK!