Clipse - Eghck lyrics
[Clipse - Eghck lyrics]
It go hot waist - Desert taste, four
Pounds of metal, tri-angle
FaceHesi 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 steelI pedal to the
Corner like a child on a
Big wheelFlow 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
QuakeBy all means I've seen I've lived
By 22 years old
50 thousand dollar vehicles I rimmedMy
Dreams start over the
StoveI 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
Homie you don't want no probs wit us
Cause we the type of dudes who
Don't think when we bustYou 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 dubsAnd 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
I offer y'all
24 bars of rawLike eight balls
In hard or soft
Time I, push em off, they need help now
Cause I, flood the street with straight
Melt downAnd 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
UhAnd 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 HatWhen times get tight
The coke game like riding a bikeYou heavy as
Me? Not in your life hang it up
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 blazerPoint 'em
At your Chevy BlazerThen bust
Holes in your Pelle blazerYou '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 tummyAnd I'm leavin' with
The scratch and the finest bunnyI'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 boy, but I'll pop 16 from a magazine
Washing machine kill the first
Cop on the scene i'm stupid
Pounds of metal, tri-angle
FaceHesi 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 steelI pedal to the
Corner like a child on a
Big wheelFlow 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
QuakeBy all means I've seen I've lived
By 22 years old
50 thousand dollar vehicles I rimmedMy
Dreams start over the
StoveI 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
Homie you don't want no probs wit us
Cause we the type of dudes who
Don't think when we bustYou 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 dubsAnd 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
I offer y'all
24 bars of rawLike eight balls
In hard or soft
Time I, push em off, they need help now
Cause I, flood the street with straight
Melt downAnd 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
UhAnd 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 HatWhen times get tight
The coke game like riding a bikeYou heavy as
Me? Not in your life hang it up
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 blazerPoint 'em
At your Chevy BlazerThen bust
Holes in your Pelle blazerYou '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 tummyAnd I'm leavin' with
The scratch and the finest bunnyI'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 boy, but I'll pop 16 from a magazine
Washing machine kill the first
Cop on the scene i'm stupid