Clipse, Re-Up Gang - м lyrics

[Clipse, Re-Up Gang - м lyrics]

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?
Hmm, with the medallions and the rings
Ain't cha?
Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane
Ain't cha?
Say what? So you can get that hood fame
Ain't cha?

Through despair, I traipse, bakin' pies
Makin' cake
Hustling them E's and that C and that H
While you probably talking frantic
On the tape
Niggas in the hood ain't tryna hear, "Man
It was a mistake" they'll call you a bitch
Not a bandit at your wake
Epitaph reading how much damage
You could take
While I'm on the boat with your bitch
Salmon on her plate
I know why you liked her, the head
It was great
Lovin' these bezel-set chains with no space
Eighty-six karats
You know how much diggin' in
The planet this could take?
Patent leather Bapes (Uh, uh)
Closet like Planet of the Bapes
Monkey see, monkey do
Monkeys following in place
Like I'm living in an episode
Of Planet of the Apes
You're watching the evolution of
One of rap's greats
You niggas tryna take my place? Never happen

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?
Hmm, with the medallions and the rings
Ain't cha?
Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane
Ain't cha?
Say what? So you can get that hood fame
Ain't cha?

Dig it, every time I do it, encore
Slide out the Lincoln with the suicide doors
My, am I blingin' like Baby
With all that shit on
My block pop 'til all that shit gone
What? You pussies hardly eatin'
What you spend on a home is a gaudy piece
On the chest of a biz-oss
It's a must I fliz-oss
My dream team wrestle for
Cheese like Eric Bischoff
From the kickoff to tipoff
I give off rays from the VVs
Ice glazed like lip gloss
Thinkin' they can see me, I beg to differ
Look up in the skiz-y, it's the Big Dipper
(That's cold)
It's chilly in Philly, it's that real
Nobody know karate
More bodies than Kill Bill
Somebody get beside me, Lord will
His blood spill
Like a waterfall, fuck around
Make me slaughter y'all

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?
Hmm, with the medallions and the rings
Ain't cha?
Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane
Ain't cha?
Say what? So you can get that hood fame
Ain't cha?

Oh, you just gon' take without askin'
Ain't cha? You just grabbin', you ain't
Earnin' for shit, that's too old-fashioned
Look, tulip, I will never tuck a jewel up
Kindergarten, did they not tap your
Knuckle with the ruler?
I'm the era of the Juice Crew
Don't let that dookie noose you
One and one is two
It's just as simple as Blue's Clues
The nine'll get the most of you
Turn yourself around
For he who want to run up
And earn himself a crown
Meanwhile, study something, nigga
It's Gucci parka
From France where the kids sing Frère Jacques
If not there, I'm somewhere mixin' vodkas
In a far-off land where they
Shake maracas and shit
Keep it movin' like them keys of coke
You're the hunted motherfucker
And I'm Benicio
Not Tommy Lee, see, we never involve the law
If it seems the walls are closing in
It's only 'cause they are motherfucker

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?
Hmm, with the medallions and the rings
Ain't cha?
Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane
Ain't cha?
Say what? So you can get that hood fame
Ain't cha?

I'm a natural-born hustler, I, the risk taker
I get it 'cross the border, the alpha
The omega my life, I scripted the papers
Posh like the wrist in the cradle
That hug the diamonds that
Kiss for you haters grimaldi, it's so gaudy
But it's just so picture perfect as
I lean in that six-forty
Five CI, I'm on them blades like TI
Them niggas hate to measure
'cause they knee-high
Still slingin' that P-IE what I bring by
Need 50 cal, pretty Desert up my sleeve, I
Still huggin' that corner so
Tight, it can't breathe, i
Never let it go 'cause a nigga gotta eat, I
Came, conquered the game
The flame and the powder and the pot
Stirred it crazy, hustle, I'm elite, I
Still in the game
Tippin' the scale like Libra
You don't really want that
Halo over your Caesar, no

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?
Hmm, with the medallions and the rings
Ain't cha?
Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane
Ain't cha?
Say what? So you can get that hood fame
Ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?
Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?

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