Kanye West, JAY-Z, Big Sean - Clique lyrics

What of the dollar you murdered for?
Is that the one fighting for your soul?
Or your brother's the one
That you're running from?
But, if you got money, fuck it
‘cause I want some b-IG
Who fuckin' with me? Oh, God!
Woah

Okay, ain't nobody fuckin' with my clique
Clique, clique, clique, clique
Ain't nobody fresher than
My muhfuckin' clique
Clique, clique, clique, clique
As I look around
They don't do it like my clique
Clique, clique, clique, clique
And all these bad bitches, man
They want the-
They want the-, they want the- (B-IG, oh God)
Go

I tell a bad bitch do whatever I say (Yup)
My block behind me
Like I'm coming out the driveway (Swerve)
It's grind day, from Friday to next Friday
(Woah) i been up straight for nine days
I need a spa day (Spa day)
Yup, she try and gimme that poon tang
I might let my crew bang
My crew deeper than Wu Tang (Woah)
I'm rollin' with, ha, fuck I'm saying? Girl
You know my crew name
You know 2 Chainz? Skrrt! I'm pullin'
Up in that Bruce Wayne
But, I'm the fuckin' villain, man
They kneelin' when I'm walking
In the buildin'
Freaky women I be feelin' from
The bank accounts I'm fillin'
What a feelin'! Ah man, they gotta be
Young player from the D
That's killing everything
That he see for the dough

Okay, ain't nobody fuckin' with my clique
Clique, clique, clique, clique
Ain't nobody fresher than
My ma'fuckin' clique
Clique, clique, clique, clique
As I look around
They don't do it like my clique
Clique, clique, clique, clique
And all these bad bitches, man
They want the-
They want the-, they want the- go

(Click clack, stick 'em up)
Yeah, I'm talkin' Ye
(Clique) yeah, I'm talkin' Rih (Clique)
Yeah, I'm talkin' B
(Clique) nigga, I'm talkin' me
Yeah, I'm talkin' bossy
I ain't talkin' Kelis your money too short
You can't be talkin' to me
Yeah, I'm talkin' LeBron
We ball in our family tree
GOOD music drug-dealing cousin
Ain't nothin' fuckin' with we
Me, turn that sixty-two to one-twenty-five
One-twenty-five to a two-fifty
Two-fifty to a half a, man
Ain't nothin' nobody can do with me
Now, who with me? ¡Vámonos! Call
Me Hov or Jefe translation: I'm the shit
'least that what my neck say
'Least that what my check say
Lost my homie for a decade
Nigga down for like twelve years
Ain't hug his son since the second grade
Uh, he never told who he gon' tell?
We top of the totem pole
It's the Dream Team meets the Supreme Team
And all our eyes green
It only means one thing: you
Ain't fuckin' with the clique

Okay, ain't nobody fuckin' with my clique
Clique, clique, clique, clique
Ain't nobody fresher than
My ma'fuckin' clique
Clique, clique, clique, clique
As I look around
They don't do it like my clique
Clique, clique, clique, clique
And all these bad bitches, man
They want the-
They want the-, they want the-

Break records at Louis
Ate breakfast at Gucci
My girl a superstar all from a home movie
Bow on our arrival, the un-American idols
What niggas did in Paris
Got 'em hangin' off the Eiffel
Yeah, I'm talkin' business, we talkin' CIA
I'm talkin' George Tenet
I seen him the other day
He asked me about my Maybach
Think he had the same
Except mine tinted and his
Might have been rented
You know, white people get money
Don't spend it
Or maybe they get money, buy a business
I rather buy eighty gold
Chains and go ign'ant
I know Spike Lee gon' kill me
But let me finish
Blame it on the pigment, we livin' no limit's
Them gold Master P ceilings
Was just a figment
Of our imagination, MTV cribs
Now I'm lookin' at a crib right
Next to where TC lives
That's Tom Cruise, whatever she accuse
He wasn't really drunk
He just had a frew brews
Pass the refreshments, a cool, cool beverage
Everything I do need a news crew's presence
Speedboat swerve, homie
Watch out for the waves
I'm way too Black to burn from sunrays
So I just meditate at the home in Pompeii
About how I could build a new Rome in one day
Every time I'm in Vegas they screamin' like
"He's Elvis"
But, I just wanna design hotels and nail it
Shit is real, got me feelin' Israelian
Like Bar Refaeli, or Gisele no
That's Brazilian went through
Deep depression when my mama passed
Suicide, what kinda talk is that?
But, I been talkin' to God for so long
That if you look at my life
I guess He talkin' back
Fuckin' with my clique
Ain't nobody fresher than
My ma'fuckin' clique as I look around
They don't do it like my clique
And all these bad bitches, man
They want the- they want the- they want the-
Go