Clipse - Eghck lyrics

[Verse 1 - Pusha T] 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 c**aine 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 [Hook] 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 [Verse 2 - Malice] 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 f**ed 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 d**h am I still in the Clipse Well, here's a secret bout me and the Clipse Even in my absence I'm still the sh** 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 [Hook] [Verse 3 - FAM-LAY] See me in a gold Hummer With two ??? b**hes 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 a** might get k**ed 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 s** 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 k** the first Cop on the scene I'm stupid