The Clipse - Feel Like Me lyrics

Published

0 151 0

The Clipse - Feel Like Me lyrics

[Intro - Pharrell] Yo, we lovin' this I got it baby Ain't nothin' but a par-ar-ty On my laced out chicks, par-ty All my n***az in the six, par-ty Clipse comin' wit' the hits, par-ty [Verse 1 - Pusha T] Yo, the flow echo, grab a ho, won't let go Chick shake her a**, Kalipso, I'm drinkin' on the world Sip slow, techno scene, lace a beam My team up, stand out like indigo dreams In the club, b**hes starin', dress, Donna Karen They inch a bit close to see the links we wearin' The jealous cats fill the room, but that's they doom Because if the beef get set (PW: We cause a typhoon) Yeah, what you here for, you better prepare for The background 'cause your presence no one'll care For the auto-matac, retaliate if it's sat-ac Stagger when I walk, let my emeralds talk Terror's status, tote unquote top, never drop While the competition pleads and begs for us to stop The interlock, stack like stock, style I got Gonna make the world build off me like catcher's glocks, yo [Chorus - Pharrell] All I wanna do is drink on the world Layin' on the beach, takin' sips wit' my girl Here they come tryin' to trouble me I just giggle 'cause I know they don't see Nor can they hear so they need to explain It's piece on pieces, that's simple and plain This is our ode to the galaxy n***az in the wrong if you feel like me [Verse 2 - Malice] Do you not know what the Clipse is Malicious, M.C. type relentless Why risk going against this, senseless You in the realm where your team is defenseless Players we ball, you in the benches Full of clips, underground wit' extensions You thought the camp had love, we show none like a show gun Malice murderin' MCs, except wit' no gun The slow gun, beat'll live fast, die young We from where they strike in the flash, like Cy Young How you come where you ain't welcome puzzlin' Take us more sips to cliss, we guzzlin' Got me wonderin', how can you live wit' yourself Move a detective, similar to the 'self Drama, you want drama, we do drama The prize package, we blow like Unibomba' [Chorus] [Verse 3 - Pusha T] It's a fine line, between the have and the ain't got Mad 'cause you ain't hot, in fact, far from it Watch you plummet, we reside at the summit Full of clips, run this, ridiculous Why you makin' me laugh, eat clips And an E-cla**, tap the wine gla** at the lip Then on behalf of the clique, take a sip Remember how we used to be like now it be like, whatever Malice and Terror, of the bad double header [Malice] It's the congruent, symmetrical bomb unit Opposition fate, end up in found unit Sync wit' the flow, hell no, we fine tunin' And make the lie, kiss while you break your spine to it Talkin' to make you feel me walkin' without a worry Blaze up the spot, watch the whole crowd hurry Magnetic, do you like a tractor, pathetic Fully clips, M.O., yo, ready to chest hit [Chorus x2 w/ ad-libs] [Outro - Pharrell] Par-ty.. Ain't nothin' but a Clipse par-ty All my n***az in the six, par-ty On my laced out chicks, par-ty