Intro:
Yeah...
It's your boy D.C. — Diplomatic Conviction
Live from the West, where the nukes ain't fiction
They chantin' hate, but some folks claim it's love
Let’s break it down for the people pushin’ doves — ha!
Hook (x2):
"Death to America," that’s what they say,
But you tellin’ me they just love MLB and Chevrolet?
Talkin’ warheads, missiles, and a nuclear plan —
So raise your hand high if you still think they playin’, man!
Verse 1:
Raise your hand up — who’s for the nuke game?
Who’s down to dance with death in a foreign name?
They screamin' hate, but the West say "Lost in translation"
While centrifuges spin in secret locations.
We play chess, they playin’ chicken with the skies,
Writin’ threats in calligraphy while the diplomat lies.
“Cultural,” they say, like it’s somethin’ benign,
Yeah — next thing you know, boom, crossin’ that red line.
Verse 2:
Hot dogs, apple pie, Chevy in the sun,
You think that’s what they mean when they loadin’ up guns?
Ayatollah in the cut, smirkin’ on cam,
Mullahs yellin’ "Death!" — and y’all think it’s a jam?
They chant it in the streets like a halftime show,
But it's not love letters — it's a target and a blow.
Diplomats soft, thinkin’ hate’s just a phase,
'Til that flash light the sky up like Independence Day.
Verse 3:
Sanctions or silence, the choice lookin’ grim,
While they talk tough, tryna keep that brim.
But miss me with that "They just want peace,"
When they trainin’ kids young to let the hate release.
No baseball bats, just ballistic stats,
And a whole lotta people still believin’ that crap.
So tell me, what part of "Death" don’t we get?
It ain’t a valentine — it’s a nuclear threat.
Hook (x2):
"Death to America," that’s what they say,
But you tellin’ me they just love MLB and Chevrolet?
Talkin’ warheads, missiles, and a nuclear plan —
So raise your hand high if you still think they playin’, man!
Outro:
So next time they chant, don’t bring no roses,
They ain’t talkin’ freedom, they exposin’ poses.
You can translate lies a million ways,
But a warhead speaks truth when diplomacy sways.
D.C. out — keep your eyes on the flame,
'Cause some fires don’t play, and this ain’t a game.
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