Clipse - Street Wars lyrics

[Verse 1: Pusha T] Yeah, bout as real as they come Still pushing base like an African drum The only other hands that it touched before Young Was a Guala out of Dallas with shag like Tum Tum Back to the hood where n***as started detoxing Till I hit them corners with that motherf**ing sheet rock The rollers back b**h, the seal's on the back b**h The six-three highlights the difference like an asterisks Yes, the re-up game never dies Soda makes the brick multiply Push tons of monster with the pie Keep water from the villain Remember what it did to them gremlins? Oh God, street wars when the heat warms up In summertime n***as know what's up Heavy armour, heavy drama, heavy karmas We the reason haters scared of us f**ing their baby mamas [Hook: Block McCloud] Soon as this product hits the street You know they will be strung They'll be dancing to the beat of this drum Listen, It's addiction hey You know we got em hooked like fiends They open like a trunk They'll be dancing to the beat of this drum Listen, It's addiction [Verse 2: Vinnie Paz] Yeah, I told Pusha, I told Mal Vinnie move more white sh** than a snowplough Everybody knew the Guinea was so foul The SKS with the bayonet, oh wow I'll rob everything and leave you with a hungry gut The hollow tips leave you looking like you got a Gumby cut You think you f**ing with the God then you's a funny f** Rambo knife cut your stomach like a tummy tuck All you see is darkness when the gun bursts The G36 melt your brain like a Pun verse I act wild but I handle my funds first I'm drunk all the time, blood quenches the son's thirst I don't talk about the money I got Because if money want my money then money gets shot Rap sh** don't work then I dumb on the block With Pusha and Mal cooking up the drums in the pot [Hook: Block McCloud] [Verse 3: Malice] Still with the coke man, same as it ever was Re-up gang, we the shame of America Eighties hysteria, the 'caine be my legacy The feds got our names, they hang us in effigy Best believe it come back like it never left I write rhymes but I'll bet I'd make a better chef They can't wait for it to dry, they like it better wet And I'm heavy with the D like Eddie F I whip it good, real good then I let it rest Then I scrape the sides then I let em test Yes, I got weight like Creatine A gem star hit that chopping block like a guillotine Know what I mean? Sitting on chrome rims Not only paper, we stack brick like Stonehenge Go against us? Haters got no wins I trust no one and I don't need no friends