Текст песни Clipse f Pharrell - Feel Like Me
Clipse f Pharrell - Feel Like Me слова песни
[Intro - Pharrell]Yo, we lovin` thisI got it babyAin`t nothin` but a par-ar-tyOn my laced out chicks, par-tyAll my niggaz in the six, par-tyClipse comin` wit` the hits, par-ty[Verse 1 - Pusha T]Yo, the flow echo, grab a ho, won`t let goChick shake her ass, Kalipso, I`m drinkin` on the worldSip slow, techno scene, lace a beamMy team up, stand out like indigo dreamsIn the club, bitches starin`, dress, Donna KarenThey inch a bit close to see the links we wearin`The jealous cats fill the room, but that`s they doomBecause if the beef get set (PW: We cause a typhoon)Yeah, what you here for, you better prepare forThe background `cause your presence no one`ll careFor the auto-matac, retaliate if it`s sat-acStagger when I walk, let my emeralds talkTerror`s status, tote unquote top, never dropWhile the competition pleads and begs for us to stopThe interlock, stack like stock, style I gotGonna make the world build off me like catcher`s glocks, yo[Chorus - Pharrell]All I wanna do is drink on the worldLayin` on the beach, takin` sips wit` my girlHere they come tryin` to trouble meI just giggle `cause I know they don`t seeNor can they hear so they need to explainIt`s piece on pieces, that`s simple and plainThis is our ode to the galaxyNiggaz in the wrong if you feel like me[Verse 2 - Malice]Do you not know what the Clipse isMalicious, M.C. type relentlessWhy risk going against this, senselessYou in the realm where your team is defenselessPlayers we ball, you in the benchesFull of clips, underground wit` extensionsYou thought the camp had love, we show none like a show gunMalice murderin` MCs, except wit` no gunThe slow gun, beat`ll live fast, die youngWe from where they strike in the flash, like Cy YoungHow you come where you ain`t welcome puzzlin`Take us more sips to cliss, we guzzlin`Got me wonderin`, how can you live wit` yourselfMove a detective, similar to the `selfDrama, you want drama, we do dramaThe prize package, we blow like Unibomba`[Chorus][Verse 3 - Pusha T]It`s a fine line, between the have and the ain`t gotMad `cause you ain`t hot, in fact, far from itWatch you plummet, we reside at the summitFull of clips, run this, ridiculousWhy you makin` me laugh, eat clipsAnd an E-class, tap the wine glass at the lipThen on behalf of the clique, take a sipRemember how we used to be like now it be like, whateverMalice and Terror, of the bad double header[Malice]It`s the congruent, symmetrical bomb unitOpposition fate, end up in found unitSync wit` the flow, hell no, we fine tunin`And make the lie, kiss while you break your spine to itTalkin` to make you feel me walkin` without a worryBlaze up the spot, watch the whole crowd hurryMagnetic, do you like a tractor, patheticFully clips, M.O., yo, ready to chest hit[Chorus x2 w/ ad-libs][Outro - Pharrell]Par-ty..Ain`t nothin` but a Clipse par-tyAll my niggaz in the six, par-tyOn my laced out chicks, par-ty