Kanye West, Big Sean & Jay-Z – ‘Clique’ Lyrics

[Intro: James Fauntleroy] 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, because I want some [Hook: Big Sean] Ain't nobody fucking with my Clique, clique, clique, clique, clique Ain't nobody fresher than my muthafuckin 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, they want the [Verse 1: Big Sean] I tell a bad bitch do whatever I say My block behind me like I'm coming out the driveway It's grande, from Friday, to next Friday I been up straight for nine days, I need a 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? Scrrr! I'm pulling up in that Bruce Wayne But I'm the fucking villain, man, they kneeling when I 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 [Hook] [Verse 2: Jay Z] Yeah I'm talking Ye', yeah I'm talking Rhi Yeah I'm talking Bey, 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 balling 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 --, man ain't nothin' nobody can do with me Now who with me? ¡Vámonos! Call me Hov or Jefe Translation, I'm the shit, at 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 He never told, who we gonna 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 [Hook] [Verse 3: Kanye West] Break records of Louie, ate breakfast at Gucci My girl a superstar all from a home movie Bow on our arrival the unamerican idols Where niggas dead 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 gone 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 You wasn't really drunk just had a few brews Pass the refreshments, a cool, cool beverage Everything I do need a news crews 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 Pompei About how I could build a new Rome in one day Everytime I'm in Vegas they screaming like he 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 [Hook]

Kanye West ft Pusha T – New God Flow Lyrics

Listen to the song here [Pusha T] I believe there’s a god above me I’m just the god of everything else I put hoes in everything else New God Flow, fuck everything else Supreme dope dealer, write it in bold letters They love a nigga’s spirit like Pac at the Coachella They said Pusha aint fit with the umbrella But I was good with the Yay as a wholesaler I think it’s good that Ye got a blow dealer A hot temper, matched wth a cold killer I came up more, for more than just to rhyme with him Think ’99, when Puff woulda had Shyne with him (Matching Daytonas, rose gold on us) Going ham in the ? done took a toll on us (But since you over do it, I’mma pour more) Well if you go coupe, I’m going 4 door [Hook] Shake that? Come and have a good time with G-O-D. [Pusha T] Step on they necks till they can’t breathe Claim they 5 stars but sell you dreams They say death multiplies by three’s Lined them all up and lets just see Fuck ‘em ‘Ye, fuck ‘em ‘Ye I wouldn’t piss on that nigga with grand? They shoulda shopped in target My shit is luxury gourmet I’m ballin’, I’m all red ? Whats a king without a crown nigga Whats a circus without you clown niggas Whats a brick from an outta town nigga When you flood and you can drown niggas It’s the good music golden child M-A-Dollar sign aint nobody hold me down [Kanye West] Hold up, I ain’t tryna stunt man But the Yeezy’s jumped over the jumpman Went from most hated to the champion God flow I guess that’s a feeling only me and Lebron know I’m living 3 dreams, Biggie Smalls, Dr. King, Rodney Kings Uh, cause we can’t get along, no resolution Till we drown all these haters, rest in peace to Whitney Houston Cars, money, girls and the clothes Aww man, you sold your soul Nah man, mad people was frontin’ Aww man, made something from nothing Picture working so hard and you cant cut through That can mess up your whole life, like the uncle that touched you What has the world come to? I’m from the 312, where cops don’t come through, and dreams don’t come true Like where did God go, in his Murcielago From working McDonalds, barely paying the car note He even got enough to get his mama a condo Than they ran up and shot him right in front of his mom 40 killings in a weekend, 40 killings in a week Man the summer too hot you can feel it in the street Welcome to Sunday service if you hope that Sunday service We got green in my eyes, follow this Eric Sermon Did Moses not part the water with the cane Did strippers not make an arc when I made it rain Did Yeezy not get signed by Hov and Dame Ran to Jacob’s and made the new Jesus Chains In Jesus name, let the choir say I’m on fire ayy, that’s what Richard Pryor Say And we annihilate anybody that violate Ask any dopeboy you know, they admire Ye’