Released: September 26, 1995
Songwriter: DJ Premier Krazy Drayz Skoob
Producer: DJ Premier
Intro/Chorus:
No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind?
No diggedy - do we bring it real e'rytime?
No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind?
No diggedy - Das EFX we rip it e'rytime
*repeat*
Verse 1: Dray, Books
Yo yo
Well biggity back from the gutter, ya peep the butter flow comin at'cha
Check the rapture that I miggity manufacture
Body snatcher, here to throw the pitch again
Gotta switch again because we back up in this bitch again (No doubt)
We roll like Michelin, the rappers know the pedigree
Flowin steadily, yo Boogie Banger, is you ready G?
I'm miggity made of snakes-n-snails and Rottweiler tails
Jiggity joined by the balls in case all else fails
Higgity hails from the land of gunslinging and I tell ya one thing
Diggedy Das EFX we run things, hunting
Down hardcore clowns and love singers
And I got more styles than Brooklyn got drug slingers (word up!)
Police oppress me, MC's wanna stiggity stress me
Tickity talkin more trash than a Hefty
Heaven-to-Betsy when Dray spark the sess, we left
You faggot MC's marked for death
Chorus
Verse 2: Dray, Books
I line up rappers then I drop em like they dominos (No diggedy!)
And naybody from their poppa to their momma knows (No diggedy!)
We got the flows to get ya hyper, plug up the micro
Phiggity-phone and then it's on because I'm just the type-uh
And ain't no diggedy, I flow until infinity, you must be kiddin me
Ain't niggity nuttin gettin rid of me
Big up to PMD, forever gettin blunted
Flooded in the triple black Benz 500
I riggity rap like Saran from here to Pakistan
Me and my man came to kick styles out the can
Fridge you with the flow, yo it's the big chill
Girbaud pants, plus stack my grams in the hills
You better settle back, bruh, or ya head'll splat
I smiggity smoked the pot that called the kettle black
Provoke and get your jiggity jaw broke
B-K-L-Y-N we no joke!
Chorus
Verse 3: Dray, Books
Well yo the 1 is for them suckers, the 2 is for my shortys
The 3 is for my knuckers puffin L's and crackin 40's
Diggy Das EFX you know the text we never slackin
We back and fliggity flex a nigga, check the rappin
Niggas be actin shady!!!!
So I got eyes behind my back and I biggity black the 80
Yo we crazy as they come smokin blunts by the carton
Beg your pardon but MC's is a pain like Martin
Sharpen up your skills, it's on the real to break em down
My sound is strictly hardcore underground
Chorus x1 1/2
No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind?
No diggedy - do we bring it real e'rytime?
No diggedy - can I kick a rhyme for your mind?
No diggedy - Das EFX we rip it e'rytime
*repeat*
Verse 1: Dray, Books
Yo yo
Well biggity back from the gutter, ya peep the butter flow comin at'cha
Check the rapture that I miggity manufacture
Body snatcher, here to throw the pitch again
Gotta switch again because we back up in this bitch again (No doubt)
We roll like Michelin, the rappers know the pedigree
Flowin steadily, yo Boogie Banger, is you ready G?
I'm miggity made of snakes-n-snails and Rottweiler tails
Jiggity joined by the balls in case all else fails
Higgity hails from the land of gunslinging and I tell ya one thing
Diggedy Das EFX we run things, hunting
Down hardcore clowns and love singers
And I got more styles than Brooklyn got drug slingers (word up!)
Police oppress me, MC's wanna stiggity stress me
Tickity talkin more trash than a Hefty
Heaven-to-Betsy when Dray spark the sess, we left
You faggot MC's marked for death
Chorus
Verse 2: Dray, Books
I line up rappers then I drop em like they dominos (No diggedy!)
And naybody from their poppa to their momma knows (No diggedy!)
We got the flows to get ya hyper, plug up the micro
Phiggity-phone and then it's on because I'm just the type-uh
And ain't no diggedy, I flow until infinity, you must be kiddin me
Ain't niggity nuttin gettin rid of me
Big up to PMD, forever gettin blunted
Flooded in the triple black Benz 500
I riggity rap like Saran from here to Pakistan
Me and my man came to kick styles out the can
Fridge you with the flow, yo it's the big chill
Girbaud pants, plus stack my grams in the hills
You better settle back, bruh, or ya head'll splat
I smiggity smoked the pot that called the kettle black
Provoke and get your jiggity jaw broke
B-K-L-Y-N we no joke!
Chorus
Verse 3: Dray, Books
Well yo the 1 is for them suckers, the 2 is for my shortys
The 3 is for my knuckers puffin L's and crackin 40's
Diggy Das EFX you know the text we never slackin
We back and fliggity flex a nigga, check the rappin
Niggas be actin shady!!!!
So I got eyes behind my back and I biggity black the 80
Yo we crazy as they come smokin blunts by the carton
Beg your pardon but MC's is a pain like Martin
Sharpen up your skills, it's on the real to break em down
My sound is strictly hardcore underground
Chorus x1 1/2
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