Diplomatic Immunity

Album: Scary Hours (2018)
Charted: 21 7
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  • Diplomatic immunity, fuck 'em
    All that peace and that unity
    All that weak shit'll ruin me, fuck 'em, yeah
    'Cause niggas started talkin' to me like I'm slowin' down
    Opinions over statistics, of course
    Gassed off journalistic
    Come at me and all you'll get is the ballistic report
    Booked a private room at Wylie's, waiter twistin' the cork
    I got multi-colored rings like the Olympics, of course
    At award shows, cuttin' through the tension, of course
    Girls huggin' me then askin' me, "What scent that is, boy?"
    I be walkin' around the Six like I invented it, boy
    Yeah, who am I? The do or die
    The one with the fewest lies and the truest ties
    They try to compare us
    But like a job straight outta high school there's no you and I
    I taught you everything you know, now you got student pride
    All factual, I call the house "the embassy"
    The studio "the chapel", I hate to travel
    I just pulled up on Solana show, the girl's a natural
    I knew her way back when Hollywood was international
    Yeah, the furthest I've been, that's word to my ends
    Word to the flags that belong in the hood of my Benz
    Very presidential, I broke all the codes for zonin' in my residential
    I broke spirits that I never meant to
    My body isn't much of a sacred temple, with vodka and wine
    And sleep at the opposite times
    Promise shit is gettin' outta line like when you make a stencil
    Or gettin' outta line like when you break a pencil
    Violatin' the Treaty of Versailles
    Champagne is the alias, but no cease and desist in I
    I refuse to comply with regulations
    I listen to heavy metal for meditation, no silence
    Like Sanders on the Detroit Lions
    Get a run around and I'll bury you where they won't find ya
    Motor City Casino, I'm at the cage with my old license
    They tell me "don't worry, I got your money" like Osirus
    (I'm the Osiris of this shit)
    Dirty 30, workin' on me
    Tired of women that may tag me in pictures airin' my dirty laundry
    Caterin' is from Giorgio Baldi, Robyn's favorite
    Shit is nice, but I prefer Madeo
    Calamari rings and tomato
    I got the sauce and now shorties keep claimin' preggo
    Wakin' up at 6 PM like, "Where does the day go?"
    Forecastin' tornadoes, brainstormin' retaliation at dinner tables
    2010 was when I lost my halo
    2017 I lost a J. Lo
    A Rotterdam trip had me on front page though
    I had to lay low, Hot Topic like your everyday clothes
    Closed off but I could never stay closed
    Billboard awards, I claimed 13 out in Vegas like Sureños
    Black excellence, but I guess when it comes to me it's not the same though, all goodie
    That just pushed me to do the things we all couldn't
    Niggas stakin' out the crib, it's all gravy
    Protection that God gave me
    Shit is complex like short niggas 'round tall ladies
    I gotta watch who I'm talkin' to like it's all-ages
    I've seen buddin' careers turn to sit around and talk about other careers, judgin' their peers
    Knowledge from niggas who did not contribute to none of this here
    Cover my ears, my security government tier
    Yeah, advance the venue so we know the exits
    Check the guest list
    If opps make an appearance at least it's expected
    Tell 'em I don't wanna link like a broken necklace
    I'll be in better company with my own reflection
    Mirror, mirror, on the ceiling of my suite in the Royal Palace
    The TV playin' Al Jazeera
    Inshallah, I hope the mission keeps on gettin' clearer
    Whenever, wherever, OVO will always be together like Shakira

    I love, I love
    I love, I love it
    Baby, I Writer/s: Aubrey Graham, Matthew Samuels, Nick Brongers
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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