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-I-G
 Oh, God, whoa
 Okay, ain't nobody fuckin' with my clique
 Clique, clique, clique, clique
 Ain't nobody fresher than my motherfuckin' 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-I-G, 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 (whoa)
 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 (whoa)
 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 (oh God)
 Ain't nobody fresher than my motherfuckin' 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-
 (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 62 to 125, 125 to a 250
 250 to a half a mill', ain't nothin' nobody can do with me
 Now, who with me? VĂ¡monos! 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 12 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
 Clique, clique, clique, clique
 Ain't nobody fresher than my motherfuckin' 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 80 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 limits
 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 mothe'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
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:53
Key
7
Tempo
109 BPM

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