Suga Duga The Diplomats (Ft. Cam'ron)

[Intro]
Brooklyn, Harlem
My man Lil Fame on the beat
M.O.P, Dipset!

[Verse 1]
Hey Suga Duga
Sold a million and ain't comfortable? Poor boy (poor boy Shawn)
And you thirty you still could go to the store boy
Well at the store get a Windex, clean the Range (that's for the windows)
Chicken wings and fried rice, keep the change (keep that, $2)
Admit you got the coupe shot, well you lame buzzin (stupid ass)
I'm not Pac, Big or Harold, Kane cousin? (I'm not none of them)
Let me explain something, propane with the flames buzzing
Young fella, umbrellas can't stop when this rain coming (tat tat tat)
Lemme leave him alone, hop on a paper plane (with Fizzle)
Why I'm beefing for? He still ain't even say my name (he scaaaared)
He know the kid, the deal (deal), F how you bitches feel (feel)
I'm on the gravy train (train), it got biscuit wheels (biscuit wheels?)
The ones the chicks could feel, like Dorothy clicking heels
My car Babyface (why?)....it got that Whip Appeal (oww!)

[Hook]
(Killa!) Where my baby, my baby
You know my lady, my lady
She never play me, just lay me
That's my suga duga (suga duga)
I see ya vision, you stripping
For tuition, just listen
I ain't knockin your mission
You my suga duga (suga duga)
You, me, Saks Five
Nemus, act live
Wrist fit, that size girl
Hey suga duga (suga duga)
I wanna beat it, in the bed I'm undefeated
Ya ass right, and look at the cleavage
Hey suga Duga (suga duga)
Hey suga Duga (suga duga)
Hey suga Duga (suga duga)
Hey suga Duga (suga duga)