Mike Dimes – HOME (Remix) (ft. J.I.D) (Audio, Lyrics)

Mike Dimes - HOME (Remix) (ft. J.I.D) (prod. Zuri & cvleb)

Mike Dimes unveils the remix for the “HOME” track with J.I.D. The piece of music was produced by Zuri & cvleb. Listen, stream, read the lyrics, buy the song.

Mike Dimes Home (remix)
Mike Dimes Home (remix)

“HOME (Remix)” finds J.I.D. in quite the surgical and ravenous state, and he steals this show with a witty and tongue-twisting guest verse. Before he concludes his awe-inspiring verse and relinquishes the mic back to Mike Dimes, the “Surround Sound” artist even warns his collaborator and other rising rappers about what will happen if they reach out for a feature, rapping, “I’m undefeated, you want a feature, I’m eatin’ your soul.”

Mike Dimes – HOME (Remix) (ft. J.I.D) (prod. Zuri & cvleb)

Lyrics

[Chorus: Mike Dimes]
This young boy from Texas so excuse my grammar
Big booty my standards, D’USSE and Fanta
If I’m in the scene, I’m flexin’ in the camera
Check my fellas, we all flock the same
We birds of the same feather
We together, this forever, switchin’ bezels, every level

[Verse 1: Mike Dimes]
Me and Cinco push that two-door coupe
Ain’t none of this shit rented
Servin’ vicious, fuck your favorite rapper
Hope he get offended
I was trippin’ off that hoe before, but promise I ain’t trippin’
I was trippin’ off them Ksubi jeans, but now my closet drippin’
Designer, got a bag and I couldn’t be prouder (Nah)
Drop a song and your status went nada (Nah)
In the booth if I’m tryna get proper (Yeah)
I was a schoolboy just tryna get collard greens
Homie outside with Alicia Keys
I make money from mics, they make money from fiends (Yeah)
Root of all evil, what got me them tickets at Regal
So fuck what’s illegal
I’m different, I really ain’t get a handout
I know half of these rappers were gimmicks (On gang)
I write my own lyrics, I bought my own pen
All them O’s buy my songs, screamin’ “Fuck your opinion”
No need for a nigga to say that I’m winnin’
It’s fuck everybody, the way I been feelin’
I got me a bitch and my bitch got a bitch (On God, on God)
So they down for a threesome, nigga (On God)

[Chorus: Mike Dimes & JID]
This young boy from Texas so excuse my grammar
Big booty my standards, D’USSE and Fanta
If I’m in the scene, I’m flexin’ in the camera
Check my fellas, we all flock the same (Yeah, look, look, look, look, look)
We birds of the same feather (See, I—)
We together, this forever, switchin’ bezels, every level (Look)

[Verse 2: JID]
Just a lil’ nigga from the six with a motherfuckin’ chip on my shoulder
Check a nigga chain, go and get this shit over
Chevy or the Benz, he’ll probably’ll get the Rover
But, then again, all three what he get for a show
But he never sober, probably gon’ need a chauffeur
‘Cause he ain’t underground no more, niggas was gophers
Long behold them hoes say now they know you
North-pole, South-pole, bitches bipolar
Pour four, Ye told me drive slowly
Twenty-four plus more, my drive Kobe
Give and go, the flow is my homie
One of a kind, you not Obi-Wan Kenobi
Many have tried and failed, parking lot full of shells
When hammers are flyin’, wear a disguise, you not Loki
No Avenger friends, we not homies
Wanna live too fast? You die slowly
Really, you jokin’, I don’t know what these niggas smokin’
That shit potent if you thinkin’ I ain’t the dopest
The whip ghostin’, if it go, shit, the hip osin’
Twin clips, lil’ nigga, you could get both of ’em
Rap game takeover, I’m JID Hova
Gettin’ dirt off of my shoulder, I’m gettin’ older
Way out in Budapest, from the Crest Boulder
I’ll be there if you lookin’ over your left shoulder
They be there if I need a nigga to step on you
Gs movin’ in silence, niggas’ deaf toned
Tone deaf, my songs is bein’ slept on
Fast forward, I’m on, bumpin’ in headphones
Shawty wanna take off her thong, jump in the bed
I don’t know her but I’m thinkin’, “Oh well, give me your cell phone”
Cellulite on her ass, titties was silicone
In the land of Atlanta, I love bein’ home
I wanna seat on the throne, I ain’t gon’ leave it alone
‘Fore all the people is speakin’, nah, let’s even the score
Knock on the door, it’s a shotgun, you peepin’ a hole
Niggas’ll sleep on the floor, I used to sleep on the floor
I’m undefeated, you want a feature, I’m eatin’ your soul
My sister a killer, she be shootin’ out a Kia Soul
Wanna get the kid, that probably cost a couple kilos
Me and Mike rob before your dimes, like deebo

[Chorus: Mike Dimes]
This young boy from Texas so excuse my grammar
Big booty my standards, D’USSE and Fanta
If I’m in the scene, I’m flexin’ in the camera
Check my fellas, we all flock the same
We birds of the same feather
We together, this forever, switchin’ bezels, every level

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