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I Love You Lyrics

from Diplomatic Immunity

"I Love You" is track #18 on the album Diplomatic Immunity. It was written by James, Brion / Winans, Mario / Dixon, Antonio / Combs, Sean / Nance, Anthony / Timberlake, Justin.
"I Love You" is track #18 on the album Diplomatic Immunity. It was written by James, Brion / Winans, Mario / Dixon, Antonio / Combs, Sean / Nance, Anthony / Timberlake, Justin.

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Yuh dip set, nigga
Luca, fuck with your boy
Santana, fuck with your boy
You know, I'm feelin' like Rocky again
My reason to fight

People say my theories is backwards
I tell them, sincerely, it's clearly, you hearing me backwards
I tell 'em I'm great, but still I need practice
I tell them to wait, go and comeback quick

They don't understand me
It's not logic, I'm not logic, I got problems
I worship the late prophet, the great Muhammad Ali
For the words that he spoke, that stung like a bee

Soaked into me, you fucker's will see
But still I'm insane, I'm rod man, dealing my brain
I'm grinding sharing my pain, shit, where is the fame
My niggaz, they still rhyming, still in the game
Still grindin', still dealing the cane
Still cockin' shit at your brain

Homie, I still smell the rotten people that lay
Down in ground zero, forgotten, left in for days
Probably left there to stay, left to decay
Broken pieces of towers, left in their graves

I pray let them be saved, till then, that's just a suggestion I make
You follow me homie, listen, I subjected my ways
To cocaine, weapons that spray, at your face motherfucker
It's Santana the great motherfucker, in the place motherfucker
Stay away motherfucka 'cause I'm headed
Straight to the top motherfucka Diplomat Taliban
Slash rock motherfucka

Oh yeah, I do this for my block motherfucka
D train, Al Gator, pop motherfucka
Young drugs, young twins, Shiest Bug
The niggaz I love, my niggaz, my thugs

Now, come fuck with your boy
Jones, killa, Freaky, come fuck with your boy, whoa
It's Santana again nigga, no bandanas just him nigga
In the flesh motherfucka, like

Yeah, I can pass this, yo man I got to get this out
Let's do it my nigga, it's touch my heart right here nigga

I seen it time, business and friendship
Well fuck it, friendships get ended, business attended
Clips get extended lawyers get called, accountants get faxed
That was my man, well I wish that he meant it, fuck it

It's been a long time, hearin' the mobsters
This ain't overnight, it's years in the process
Shed a tear in the process, now process is over
All my niggaz get prepared for the Oscars

Back to the block, sharing a lobster
Morris Malone, Sam Malone, preparing the vodka, holla
Hallelujah, no hum-du Allah, but respecting my Aki
He held me down, when it was getting real Rocky

Hustling, isn't a hobby
I sit in the lobby, look at my ovie, have visions of Gotti
Visions of lotties, pictures of blood, scenes of L
I wanna see my son, piss in that potty

Jimmy, I'm going to make sure your wrist is real Rocky
See my plans are for long term like Mr. Miyagi
Wax on, wax off, put our wax on, take that wack off

Over some nights, I had fights over the white
The roads to the lows, I knows what it's like
Now, niggaz career over like Mike anyone
Tyson, Jordan, Jackson, it's over

This shit right here touched my soul, man
My grandmother or something, 56 bless her soul
Apartment 56 that is, 101, west 140th Street
Rest in peace Liddiah Giles, blood shed
Let's get our shit now


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Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, TEK PUBLISHING


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