Clipse - We Know lyrics

Published

0 162 0

Clipse - We Know lyrics

[Verse 1: Pusha T] Pusha Ton or you can call me "ZipLock" Yellow with the blue make green when the coke drop Fifteen years old cookin' raw rock Mama gettin' mad cause I was f**in' up her gold pots Drug dealer, been that n***a half my life Mongoose bicycle, I was stuffin' junkie pipes Graduated now I get it for the askin' price 'Me no speaky English' if your f**in' cash is right Dey know yayo Pedro, Louise, Lee Lee. Me Amigos Oh! You n***as talkin' but you ain't never seen them Imagine bein' on first name basis with the kingpin You middle-mannin' and I'm touchin' the hands of the growers From Texas to Tijuana, motherf**ers know us Dryer sheets line the trunk to disguise the odor Your price is low but I bet my number shorty lower [Verse 2: Ab-Liva] Liva n***a heater man Nickname, the Cheetah man Like Ishmael with fishscale Got it off that Peter Pan Rob Peter, paid Paul Played soft, faced loss Oz I pitch, like a friendly game of baseball Trade off cars with the tops off Blaze off, grown man the paper player Never turn that chase off Young n***a sold dope, sold soap Sold hope, bottled in that capsule n***a, got it from my old folk 10 Crack Commandments, see. Listen to the old GOAT Louis this, Gucci that. Labels hold them logos Learn from the old pros, prison is a no-go New tires low-pro, shopping up at SoHo BBC, PlayCloths, Jays on, days old Five pair, one tied, retro with the lace hole 24s sittin' high, chrome with the brake holes Re-Up Gang run it, it ain't over til we say so [Verse 3: Sandman] Just when you thought it was safe f** a shark, there's a k**er whale in the water Disturbin' the sh** outta order If you swim you get slaughtered, and I say, "Ooh!" I say, "Food! Fools in this school am I" I'm droppin' this sh** too quickly Let me slow up, who am I? Fat daddy dough stack, Philly's mayor A big "Thank you" to all my haters For fuelin the fire My burning desire inspires the mongrels to keep spittin I'm rippin through tires, spin Got to keep that, sh** is real brah Where I'm from is the home of cop k**as 215 610 267 1,492 you eight bucks short 15 will get you 3, i'll let you owe me neena You burn me for that bread, I'll act like I never seen ya Can speak for my n***as, they felonize misdemeanors Forever how they die, when they see ya. It's real [Verse 4: Malice] Now look how I got it, the cars and the cribs I done sign on the dotted, Re-Up is a partnership The four of us and we come as the Apocalypse Hands down "We the best" I'm a narcissist Me and my b**h, we out in Ball Harbor She spendin' my money. I'm hot and I'm bothered I hop in the Taga peel out Ocean Drive Nice breeze, at the top, sippin' on coladas Dope Boy Fly sh** of which I am a part of Where we all get chips and evade Estradas Party on South Beach Privé and Madonna We ain't worry about nothin' Hakuna Matata Pay your lawyer well, rea**ure yourself Like black gold, this Re-Up thing's an oil well Trick on your b**h, I'm sure she will enjoy Chanel Or that R350, that shoulda overwhelm