Clipse - Eghck | Текст песни

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• Clipse
• Eghck

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[Verse 1 - Pusha T]

It go hot waist - Desert taste, four pounds of metal, tri-angle face
Hesi-tate? Never, I'll put hole in whoever
Don't make Push' Russian Roulette ya
Gamble with ya life
Change came from cocaine I've measured
White was the treasure, comfort was the steel
I pedal to the corner like a child on a big wheel
Flow more sicker, so much shake in the street
They measure my weight in Richter
Make no mistake, I rhyme for the public
But still I push yay that make the ghettos quake
By all means I've seen I've lived
By 22 years old, 50 thousand dollar vehicles I rimmed
My dreams start over the stove
I ran over the globe and back again
You seen em, five-ten, hair swingin, dark skinned
Gun on my hip like a sergeant
Wrist Green Power, Chris Tuck' in my watch
Anytime the small hand move, it's Rush Hour

[Hook]
Homie you don't want no probs wit us
Cause we the type of dudes who don't think when we bust
You die (Eghck!)
When you come close to
And you get held back cause you're not supposed to
You die (Eghck!)
When we roll up on dubs
And get VIP all up in the club
You die (Eghck!)
Homie I am a star
And you might get hurt walking up to my car

[Verse 2 - Malice]

I offer y'all, 24 bars of raw
Like eight balls in hard or soft
Time I, push em off, they need help now
Cause I, flood the street with straight melt down
And I'm not proud, in fact I hate this route
This the same game got my brother strung out
So I, count the ways that it fucked up his life
So I don't have a problem with upping my price, uh
And who said the game ain't fair?
A God damn loser!
Look, just like chicks, them cats they be runnin' they lips
Worried to death am I still in the Clipse
Well, here's a secret bout me and the Clipse
Even in my absence I'm still the shit ya dig?!
Everything doing it big, from the cars to the home
From the cash to the chrome, they can't say the game ain't grown
Did they tell you bout the nine? I keeps me that
And I don't ever fall off like Adebisi Hat
When times get tight, the coke game like riding a bike
You heavy as me? Not in your life. Hang it up

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - FAM-LAY]

See me in a gold Hummer
With two ??? bitches that makes ???
Somebody touch them, then I'm a bust them
Both hoes is accustomed
To getting coke through customs
They ain't' the average women would cut them
Trey Eighters out the leather blazer
Point 'em at your Chevy Blazer
Then bust holes in your Pelle blazer
You 'bout to ride in Hell's elevator
You got somethin' else to say to God?
You gonna have to tell him later
Time is money
Doubt none of y'all find this funny
See I ain't got time for dummies
So I keep the Nina Ross right beside the tummy
And I'm leavin' with the scratch and the finest bunny
I'm so far from a million dollars
If y'all feel me, holler
Put your drinks in the air, then peel your collar
Chrome wheel Impalas
Make 'em bounce for FAM-LAY
Cuz your drunk ass might get killed tomorrow
Narcs jumpin' out of U-Haul trucks
Leavin' you all stuck
Behind a park bench, balled-up
So I sleep all day, hustle all night
Like a vampire
But I don't suck blood, I bust slugs
Liquor got me trigger-happy
I can tell that you a hater how you lookin' at me
Young bull without pops
16 from a magazine ???
Washing machine
Kill her first
Cop from the scene
I'm stupid