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Clipse

Clipse is an American hip hop duo formed by brothers Gene "No Malice" Thornton (formerly known as "Malice") and Terrence "Pusha T" Thornton in Virginia Beach, Virginia in 1992. The group is heavily affiliated with the production team The Neptunes and are signed to Star Trak Entertainment. more »

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Uh, uh, uh
Uh, uh

Say dawg, let's not get involved
You don't wanna tango, I'll dress you in a halo
Cock the gauge, polka dot your braids
Face you with a chrome fo', that'll lock your legs
And you can't move, I roll big and I can't lose
They watch so hard ain't nothin' I do, that ain't news
Carry it like I'm a stranger to the game
I cut short any whisper that endanger my name
I hold toasts on both coasts, not for no joke
I'm known in the streets on the account, I know coke
And we got word that the cops watch us
But that don't stop us, we maneuvering, move a little mo' cautious
I hate to think that the dope game is my callin'
'Cause it got us singing lullabies to our fallen
Goodnight friend, 'til we meet again
But for now, in your name, we re-up and eat again, uh
I never front like I'm something I'm not
But being broke, well, that's just somethin' I'm not
Y'all talk with hatred, but I live off that
And I lived off cocaine way 'fore I lived off rap
Feel me friend, if they could, they'd kill me friend (yeah)
'Cause I weigh too much, learned not to say too much
They couldn't take me in the C-L, that's way too much
And I'm too gone, y'all niggas can talk on

They call me Mr. Please Believe It, believe it, please
I put the pump in your mouth and help you breath with ease
This guys in a hurry, ma, I can't even f*ck with you
If you ain't in the itinerary
I don't know where dudes is buying they jewelry
Why's your ice cream like it's made by Ben & Jerry?
Y'all the type of players that be gettin' 2-day contracts
Email snitch, got Ds in your two-way contacts
I'm in the club sippin' on that new 'Ze cognac
In the number 9 Jordans, with the deuce trey on back
The street family so cool, we could pull bitches
Even if it was July and we had on Woolrich's
I got them teflons to shove in the fo'
That have under covers and po' recoverin' slow
The government know, the kid been lovin' the dough
Since I was movin' white off the curb like shovelin' snow, ghetto

I keep the streets so numb, they call me Novocaine
I turn over 'caine, over and over again
Hell, so much clientele, I could lose it all today
Be back the next day, still up in the same way as I left ya
All in three gestures, down up and aim
I can define death better than Webster, wet ya
Now bless ya, and off to my next venture
Blocks so white, June look like December
Wintertime, snow everywhere, flow everywhere
So much dough, I fly my hoes everywhere
Ask him, Pusha T, push a ton
Push a ton of that shit that makes ya nose run
Yes, I'm holdin', whether it's heat or coke in
In the door panel of my four-wheel motion
Ain't jokin', but I laugh how other flows convince you
It's money, it's funny, it's Comedy Central
Mine's mental, others is made up stencil
When I'm on vacation, my babies ride in the rental
I'm livid, they act as if I don't live it
Saran wrap Vaseline, so they can't sniff it
Yves St. Laurent knitted, shorts Bermuda
You would think they was Pucci, if you overlooked Medusa

Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh

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