Clique

Album: Cruel Summer (2012)
Charted: 22 12
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  • 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. fuckin' with me, oh god, whoa

    OK ain't nobody fucking with my clique, clique, clique, clique, clique
    Ain't nobody fresher than my mothafuckin' 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

    I tell a bad bitch do whatever I say
    My block behind me like I'm coming out the driveway
    It's grind day, from Friday, to next Friday
    I been up straight for nine days, I need a spa day (spa day)
    Yup, She trying get me that poo-tang
    I might let my crew bang, my crew deeper than Wu-Tang
    I'm rolling with, fuck I'm saying? Girl, you know my crew name
    You know 2 Chainz? Scrr!
    I'm pulling up in that Bruce Wayne but I'm the fucking villain,
    Man, they kneeling when I'm walking in the building
    Freaky women I be feeling from the bank accounts I'm filling
    What a feeling, ah man, they gotta be
    Young player from the D that's killing everything that he see (Ain't nobody fucking with my clique, clique, clique, clique, clique)

    Ain't nobody fresher than my mothafuckin' 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

    Yeah, I'm talking 'Ye, yeah, I'm talking Rih'
    Yeah, I'm talking B', nigga, I'm talking me
    Yeah, I'm talking bossy, I ain't talking Kelis
    Your money too short, you can't be talking to me
    Yeah I'm talking LeBron, we ball in our family tree
    G.O.O.D. Music drug-dealing cousin, ain't nothing fuckin' with we
    Me turn that 62 to 125, 125 to a 250
    250 to a half a million, 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 12 years, ain't hug his son since second grade
    He never told, who we 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 fucking with my clique (Ain't nobody fucking with my clique, clique, clique, clique, clique)

    Ain't nobody fresher than my mothafuckin' 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 Louie, 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 hanging off the Eiffel
    Yeah I'm talking business, we talking CIA
    I'm talking 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 ig'nant
    I know Spike Lee gon' kill me but let me finish
    Blame it on the pigment, we living no limits
    Them gold Master P ceilings was just a figment
    Of our imagination, MTV cribs Now I'm looking 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 few 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 sun rays
    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 screaming like he's Elvis
    But I just wanna design hotels and nail it
    Shit is real got me feeling Israelian
    Like Bar Refaeli, Gisele, nah that's Brazilian
    Went through, deep depression when my momma passed
    Suicide, what kinda talk is that?
    But I been talking to God for so long and if you look at my life I guess he's talking back
    Fucking with my clique

    Ain't nobody fresher than my mothafuckin' 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 Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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