song lyrics / Digga D / No Diet lyrics  | FRen Français

No Diet lyrics

Performer Digga D

No Diet song lyrics by Digga D official

No Diet is a song in English

Ghosty

Whip it, set it, flick it, chef it
Cop it, chop it, press it
Cop it, lock it, sell it
Rob it, fly it, drop it, dry it
It's there on demand, I supply it
You know the coke ain't diet

Your nose to the gun then buss, lean, lean with a gun like Russ
No one ain't dying, they lying on us, no carb in the yard then I'm flying it dust
Truss, no loyalty, she's lining them up
No royalty, your queen give it up, cheff chest and back, I'm leaving him rubbed (ching)
Up and down, no seesaw, detour, oi, dodge that neenaw
I got 6 and if you add 3 more, then I'm somewhere where I might get recalled
And I'm tired of seeing the can
Whole ting get shell down (woy-woy-woy-woy-woy-woy)
Got the fairy .44, big bang (bubu)
Bro don't box like Joshua, shank game popular, do man proper, shotta
Throw me a box and I got ya, man take risks for the pounds and prosper
Prosper, they had me in the can like Foster
Let the Star buck for the cream, no Costa (cream)
That nigga don't really want beef
Who's copying me? Some silly impostor

Whip it, set it, flick it, chef it
Cop it, chop it, press it
Cop it, lock it, sell it
Rob it, fly it, drop it, dry it
It's there on demand, I supply it
You know the coke ain't diet
Whip it, set it, flick it, chef it
Cop it, chop it, press it
Cop it, lock it, sell it
Rob it, fly it, drop it, dry it
It's there on demand, I supply it
You know the coke ain't diet

Spill some juice, KA
And it was a carnival crush when bro, got three in a day
17 with a .38, praying that they come my way
.32's, .25's and .40's, conceived in the 90's
Born in the Noughties, cover these tats' when I'm going on walkies
No porkies, jail house filled stories
OT, hit town, need morphine, so I'm on the M, switch lane like Tory (skrrt)
Bill up my spot and I'm leaving it gory
Surely, surely, bro's faster, he'll do it before me (neeaw)
You want it? I got it, call me, I whip it and lock it at Pauly's
This one's feeling horny
Got a rusty ting from South with the mouth, she ain't getting more than Morleys
I'ma buss in her mouth by all means

Whip it, set it, flick it, chef it
Cop it, chop it, press it
Cop it, lock it, sell it
Rob it, fly it, drop it, dry it
It's there on demand, I supply it
You know the coke ain't diet
Whip it, set it, flick it, chef it
Cop it, chop it, press it
Cop it, lock it, sell it
Rob it, fly it, drop it, dry it
It's there on demand, I supply it
You know the coke ain't diet
Lyrics copyright : legal lyrics licensed by Lyricfind.
No unauthorized reproduction of lyric.
Writer: Rhys Herbert
Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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