Tyga - Clique/Fuckin Problem(instrumental) | Текст песни

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• Tyga
• Clique/Fuckin Problem(instrumental)

Ain’t nobody fuckin’ with my clique,
Clique, clique, clique clique,
I’m T Raww young nigga I’m the shit,
Shit, shit, shit, shit
I said ain’t nobody fuckin’ with my clique,
Clique, clique, clique clique,
Young money motherfucker we the shit,
I be the shit, we be the shit, I am the shit

[Verse 1]
I ball out like the San Diego Padres
TGIF, thank God it’s Friday
Smokey Friday, so high might fly away
Competition’s small so I live big like Tom Hanks
Big bang, 22, nigga don’t believe in King
Tried everything from sellin’ weed to counterfeit
Counterclockwise, clockwise
now we countin’ hits
Superfreak bitches made a milli off a porno flick
Good nigga, clean dick
Fuck her right she’ll call again
I ain’t got time for modelin’
Show up lookin’ how your pictures did
Bitch, no call to niggas, but we at the Ritz,
Super duper fly nigga so they bug me for a flick
Get it? Flick, flick, choppers on the hip
Make a band, chop a drum clip, I’m T.I. with this
Too ill to reheal or fix son a nigga eclipse
Hotter than Middle East is, pledge allegiance
A star bitch you the realest, I’m a realist
Father, son, holy spirit
‘cause I brought the ghost with me
Let’s toast to the Rolls I driven
You could live in
She give me clit and my clique winnin’
Bank murder up in this

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