🎵 Dear Cam (Cam’ron Diss) // by Stan Spit

2 ContributorsDear Cam (Cam’ron Diss) Lyrics [Intro] Uh, uh Damn, man Write this nigga Cam a fuckin' letter B Where my pen at, man? I got his fuckin' letter, this nigga forgot to put a, fuckin' return address, maybe he didn't forget, maybe he just didn't want me to have his address, but he don't know I got it anyway so I'ma write him this letter B Shit Harlem (It's crazy) Harlem [Verse] Yo, yo, dear Cam, the last nigga that dissed me (The last nigga that dissed me) I end up usin' his teeth as a wristband You takin' a real big risk, man, steppin' to Spit without a weapon to spit, you know how hectic it get? Picture you head gettin' kicked or your neck gettin' broke Now your son gettin' choke, your own crew losin' hope I got your baby mom in the back abusing her throat But she don't like to swallow but she love to spit Why else would we gangbang and rug the bitch Send her home to you and let you hug the bitch? So please son don't worry about me [?] [?] [?] ([?] run, run) 'cause you vs me is like a knife vs gun I could tell by your first video how much [?] [?] [?] [?] ([?] [?] you and Ma$e, you was runnin' nigga) flop Your two albums flopped Me? Shit, I'm still [?] your whores How I fuck L album up? (5000, gold, nigga) It sold more than yours So tell everybody how I'm really deprived when that 6 that you drive is really a 5 so at least I'm bein' true to myself And by the time you broke, I'll be new to the wealth Now everytime I rhyme your career's on the line But I ain't satisfied I'm tryna tear out your spine So fuck bein' boss, I'm king I could fuck J.Lo, why? Her love don't coast a thing so keep frontin' (Uh) around (Uh) my set (Uh) I'ma end up with yo chain around my neck and how you gon' feel (Nigga) When your face in the ground (Nigga) And then you look up, nigga Then you facing the pound? [?] [?] motherfucker, I'm not chaing you down (I'm not chasing you) I got better things to do then to set it on See I said it on Kay Slay, I'll say it on Clue?, nigga, I say it on Flex, I'll say it on [?] And this is me talkin' definitely not the X so your best bet is to keep it lyrical 'cause you don't want things to get more than physical Cause when your [?] get hit, nigga, you ain't worth spit Just a memory, remember he used to be on 40th Street now PS I'ma let the world know the truth, you, don't really want me to shine You went to Kay house then you laid your vocals after mine, that's a bitch move Somethin' I knew you probably a do but I don' said it anyway, nigga you could get it any day This ain't about rap, this ain't about ends, I lost respect for you, nigga, yo, we could never be friends (Never ever, ever be friends) My heart is cold when it come to you Now before you hop up in that 6, nigga, you best to look up under you just bones I ain't gon' bother your mom's but who gon' tell that lady that I broke Cam arms? If she ask you why? Tell that [?] [?] [?] Now Jimmy (Jones don't sweat it, you my nigga) don't sweat but Killa you could get it I will clap you then take care of lil Derek (I will take care of your son) So don't insult my intelligence (Don't insult my intelligence) nor my money I don' been places where they be talkin' funny And I stay away from phones when I'm talkin' money So as far as I'm concerned keep talkin' dummy, now run along Oh and Cam'ron fix your thong and your letter I tore it up 'cause now it's on [Outro] (Bitch) Faggot (Faggot nigga) (Stupid nigga) Holla back, man (Holla back, man) My two-way number (My two-way number) is 1-8-7-7 (Uh-huh) 3-0-1 (3-0-1) 26-97, bitch (Bitch) Oh, oh and my home address is 30 West, 130 9th Street, apartment 15 [?] 1-0-0-3-7, Harlem, Lennox Ave, nigga Fuck you