Joell Ortiz - Clique (Freestyle) lyrics

[Verse 1] You ain't f**ing with my clique So much they ain't gotta spit I got this sh**, from my pocket I lift this pick and script the apocalypse I'm the freshest with this ink The stuck-up b**hes s** me in a blink Give me neck until I sprink- Le I call that a little something to think Hood rich, sawed-off shotty With bodies under the mink, good chicks I've got an eagle eye for birdies if they up to par I put a hole in one I'm on my Tiger Woods' sh** Rubber band grind, f** your black card dawg' I rob your black a**, now that's black on black crime Southern comfort and lime North Bubble when it's opposite of summer time Scully load you think I'm moving dimes So Brooklyn am I, yeah I come from where that Boom Bap Is drums from a new track, or the exchange from two gats Mouth off, don't do that Hot heads, we'll cool that You keep wigging out We'll give your dew rag a new flat Then push your hair dew back I'm with the business No throwing lead, I'm throwing doe on your head I said I'm with the business And you know I can't go a whole verse without a YAOWA That's my mother f**ing sh**, you ain't f**ing with my clique Clique, Clique, Clique, Clack Run your mother f**ing sh**, homie come up off that Grip, Grip, Grip, Grip Back the f** down before I spit, Prick