Fantastic 4

DJ Clue?

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🇬🇧 English · Original

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Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo You never hear that we buckle, we-we chuckle Scuffle over a game of pinochle Anything I put my money in got to see double Unless y'all wanna see trouble You ran a mile I'm the type to cut a piece of soap, put it on a imbecile Play his crack to handle that Hear me foul, girls wanna know, can I smile? That's what they for, 'cause they lick my balls Right after I play ball No wash up, no nothin', hear what I say, y'all? Okay, y'all, ask AJ, y'all I'm the baddest bitch to scare y'all Like Stacey Dash, he was eatin' Tracy ass At this other lady pad To get it on, I had to call up Desert Storm But cutthroats call y'all, while y'all hope the dawn fall But I come inside the tunnel, nigga, with Pope John Paul Yo, them niggas on the wrong front They ain't no harm, y'all 'Cause my crew'll break each shoulder I'm that nigga that talk about no street soldiers 'Cause my street soldiers are heat holders and weed rollers Keep two bones and two phones in each Rover We all relax, and any beef, it's all reactin' Peace is all reaction, but I get buckwild like Corey Jackson Playas called off, 'cause y'all niggas got to get hauled off Y'all all soft, smokin' Nicholai, nigga like Volkoff Know what I mean, yo? Long as the C.R.E.A.M. grow, I fiend though I come fuck up your whole town like El Niño I'm the hottest nigga you seen, yo Jumpin' outta Lex too With Jimmy Jones right next to me in a Benz sweatsuit Fuck all y'all non-believers I roll with God, the Squad and TS Out with the BS We platinum, they even doubted Jesus Niggas is 85%, I'm 400 solid Brain brolic with knowledge, cock-diesel scholars Holdin' it down Walkin' around with gold by the pound Frozen and drowned with diamond boulders all in the crown Talk of the town, soakin' you down with toast 'til you drown Ghost you and burn your corpse with the force that'll open the ground Save the jokes for the clowns, I'm on a serious tip You keep playin', and I get furious quick And I'll take you for a walk through the ghetto Either spark your metal Or get outlined in chalk by the devil I rep the borough that mothered this rap shit I used to clap shit Now I just lay back and mack on some mack shit I used to have to pack a MAC in back of the Ac' Now I relax and stack platinum plaques in my shack It's like that But don't think I won't counteract My niggas is strapped And quick to lay a bitch on his back I'm swift with the MAC, quicker than kung fu With the reflexes of a cat and the speed of a mongoose Talk about, huh? That's what we talk about, thug shit Talk about, huh? That's what we talk about, thug shit Talk about, huh? That's what we talk about, thug shit Talk about, huh? That's what we talk about, thug shit Now, what's a symphony without me on it? It ain't a symphony My jewels shit on cats without Tiffany N.O.R.E., I just lace the heat I don't complain about the track, give me any beat I get head in the whip on any street I fuck with Clue, other cats is snakes I been fuckin' with Clue since he made 60 Minute tapes We copped mad bottles and crushed many grapes We from the hood, and they from the hood The difference is we get plaques that go double wood We took the game right over at the time they could Them niggas silly though Knowin' Nore lay pretty low But them niggas is moles Just like the Maxwell video I got two albums and two cars And now bitches on my dick 'cause of Chico DeBarge Thugged Out's first lady (Let's go have fun, baby) Them motherfuckers ain't live, though they told the streets I sold a hundred sixty-three thou' on my first week That mean I got more fans than you, bigger plans than you We buy real coke, hit grams of blue Ayo, the president is like me, he smoke weed too Don't really like to fuck, he just get head too Stick a broom in your butt, tell you, "Go 'head, boo" Thugged Out motherfuckers like the rest of the crew Canibus, Cam'Ron and Punisher too And the beats usually done by Duro and Clue Who the hell wanna battle the ill mathematical? My motherfuckin' brain is IBM compatible Techniques are foreign, far from bein' borin' My style is hard like Castle without McCormick I run through your crew like the flu when I vomit My style's like AIDS, 'cause don't nobody want it Niggas frontin' like they hard But I'm a street fighter like Jean-Claude And I'll split your shit, pa Right down the middle, play you like a fiddle I got a fetish for titties, I nibble on the nipple Then trespass on your property like Monopoly Subdue your crew and beat that ass properly Welcome to the Desert Storm annual extravaganza Crew rolls deeper than the Cartwrights on Bonanza I feed off weed, natural energy sources Lyrics are more power than the horses they put in Porsches Can't be tested or effed with, I'm too reckless I chop off heads just to take the necklace The type of Canibus that's side effect-less The type of shit to get the Question Mark Man arrested Take evasive action, flip like reciprocal fractions Turn the heat up on MC's to watch they meat blacken You try to get fly, you get electrified And fried, and fuck around and get your mouth slapped dry You could battle me and possibly survive But you could never see me and walk away without a black eye Word up, hops, Killuminati call the cops And if the cops ain't tryin' to see me, the cops call SWAT Scar your whole squad with bullet scars, no holds barred I'll even hassle the National Guard Ready or not like the Fugees, crews be steppin' to me But I wipe 'em all out like booty I'm so unruly, the police don't say nothin' to me It don't matter whether they on or off duty I murder you brutally when I spit at you My actions are unforgivable, look at what Killuminati did to you The maximum lyrical, nigga, you minimal There's a big hole in the desert I told the men to blew the dick for you Motherfucker, Killuminati '98 DJ Clue The Professional What's what?