Diamond D
Do Your Thing
[Intro: Diamond D]
Woo-wee, yeah, huh
For the 9-5
All the way in live
Baby Pa word up
Got my homie gotta feel it

[Verse 1: Diamond D]
Do you knowledge
See I'm just like Shaq, I put it on, bump it
Quick to disrespect a hunky
Excuse me Jesus Christ, I'll squeeze it tight
And send a n***a home to his peas & rice
Back up, you gonna need stitches
When it comes to bitches, I stretch 'em like three wishes
I'm shittin' on n***as like a pigeon in a [?]
While we smoke them out [?]
We feel the herbal essence
And make progression [?]
That leave me with no exception but to grab the Smith & Wesson
I ain't fessin'
N***as better practice their rhymes
Or heading back to a life of crime
No frontin'
I get it on like a pimp on 10th
With no heart
With his chick turning tricks in the cold on the strip
Huh! My repertoire up to par for the spar
Don't give a fuck who you are
I grab my dick and head to the back of the bar
In a formal cypher with my clique
With n***as who talk the girl into cashing [?]
On the reg, I'm passing out spankings
From [?] avenue all the way out to Franklin
Controversy, some girls curse me
Others nurse me
Record labels reimburse me
Aight!
[Hook 1: Lord Finesse/Diamond D]
Finesse: No jokes allowed (Do your thing kid)
Diamond: Gotta move the crowd (Do your thing kid)
Finesse: I pull your whole file (Do your thing kid)
Diamond: Just peep the style (Do your thing kid)
Finesse: Act like you know (Do your thing kid)
Diamond: Peep the show (Do your thing kid)
Finesse: Check the flow (Do your thing kid)
Diamond: I'm out to make dough (Do your thing!)

[Verse 2: Lord Finesse]
Check it out
I don't have to pop tools to stop crews or mop fools
I play it cool and smooth, I'm like drop jewels
I get props and never fail, hops
The stuff I'm deliverin' you can't get in your mailbox
I make noise, I scrape toys
People think they down with Diggin In The Crates
C'on they just play boys
I show you what hype is
It's time to get paid, fuck that
It's only right kid
I'm so bad with the vocab
That's only part of it, now let me school you on the whole half
I'm no stranger, more like danger
Like playin' russian roulette with 5 bullets in the chamber
I get more props, I'm raw, hops
With the sure shot that's guaranteed to make all you girls' drawers drop
Ladies think I talk fine cause I sport rhymes
I'm livin' righteous while you fight like fuckin' pork ribs
Fuck around watch that ass get sporked
Your rhymes are prehistoric like them dinosaurs in Jurassic Park
You'll get rip like a card [?]
Because you watch gangster flicks and write rhymes don't mean you're hardcore
I'm so divine when I flow on rhyme, yo I blow your mind
When I got for mine, C'on n***as know the time
It's the creator of the better songs
Peace to Diggin In The Crates, made the crew live forever on
[Hook 2: Diamond D/Lord Finesse]
Diamond: Pass the mic (Do your thing kid)
Finesse: Got the style down tight (Do your thing kid)
Diamond: Shit sounds hype (Do your thing kid)
Finesse: It's only right (Do your thing kid)
Diamond: I'm out to make papes (Do your thing kid)
Finesse: I got to set 'em straight (Do your thing kid)
Diamond: Got moves to make (Do your thing kid)
Finesse: 'long with Diggin In The Crates (Do your thing!)