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​Street Pharmacist

This song is by The Diplomats and appears on the album More Than Music, Vol. 2 (2007).

(Feat. Hell Rell, A-Mafia)

Okay, Hell fuckin' Rell man
Dipset
Uh-huh, yeah, yeah
Uh-huh, yeah, yeah
Uh-huh, yeah yeah
Let's lock in, what it is nigga

(Verse 1: Hell Rell)
What the fuck B
These niggaz think I'm getting special bread
'Cause my watch stupid, face retarded like this is special ed
And my rims they go ring-around-a-rosie
I ain't the type of nigga you wanna bring around your homies
If he icy, stick him, rob him, slap him, or jab him
Grab the Uze and just ooze him or cock the Mac and just Mac him
Yeah, you know Rell catch a body on it B
Ya know how Dipset do it, bring the party to the streets
And the bitches be like, look at all these cars
Must be outta space, look at all these stars
Damn, now they star-struck, down on they hard luck
Fresh out the shower only way I could be washed up
I tell a hoe, "Yo go powder your face
Ma, I'm lookin' for fiends, I got powder to taste"
And there's still a lotta niggaz tryna be me today
Can't see what I'm doin', must be Stevie and Ray
Yeah (yeah)

(Hook: A-Mafia)
I'm a pharmacist, I move heroin in bricks
40 Gs on my wrist, bitches is on my dick
I heard them 40th niggaz is on some shit
Fuck with A-Mafia and I'ma spray off some clips
I'm a pharmacist, I move heroin in bricks
40 Gs on my wrist, bitches is on my dick
I heard the Dipset niggaz is on some shit
Fuck with Hell Rell nigga and I'ma spray off some clips

(Verse 2: A-Mafia)
Waddup Rell, the black mobster in here, yeah
And all we do is pack choppers in here, yeah
We can get it crackin' or poppin' in here
Or take it back to the scrappin' or the boxing in here
You fuck wit' Maf', blow a shot in the air, fuck the frail shit
I've been free for a while but I'm still on some jail shit
You wanna act big, holla at the kid
I got some gangstas that'll spank ya and push back ya wig
I spit like a split Mike and half a B.I.G.
I used to pump packs but now raps my gigs
Light the water up, light a quarter up
Put 50 up, 100 stack a OZ's, y'all know me
The O.G. who sold keys, only roll wit' them Rollies
We don't fuck with the police
Front on me and they gon' bleed
I know you wonder how I sold 500 thou
And still rap like a backpacker and sound underground

(Verse 3: Hell Rell)
My life is based around traffickin' and violence
I'm young but I'm old school like them African medallions
Troop shoot ya spot built
That shit you talkin' can get ya whole block killed
Believe me, you are not real
I'm buster-proof, you can't do nuttin' to me
Have 100 niggaz in hoodies in ya crib like what's goodie
Yeah, goddamn, all these muthafuckas hate us
I don't take orders, I ain't no muthafuckin' wiater
I'm a boss, so here's my ring, kiss 5 karats
Killing snitches, moving birds, those are my habits
I heard you run a town
And your connect was giving you the run-around
Well here, take my number down
I got coke for days, yeah blow for days
I like to rhyme but I love crime 'cause I know it pays
I winked at her 'cause I know that dame wit' you
You don't feel what I'm doin', you got Novocain in you nigga