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letra de clique (remix ft. j-rod) - cheach

[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, f-ck it, cause i want some

[j-rod]
uh, yeah, uh, j-rod
music is! p-ssion! uh

[hook: j-rod & cheach]
ain’t n0body f-cking with my
clique, clique, clique, clique, clique
we too d-mn dope, yeah we know that we the
sh-t, sh-t, sh-t, sh-t, sh-t
always keep it real, ain’t no doubt that we
legit, -git, -git, -git, -git
any b-tches disagree, then they can choke on a-
choke on a-, choke on a-, choke on a-

[verse 1: j-rod]
first off my squad is finna blow, word to your ala
from the red dot, red hot call it lava
now i couldn’t buy no prada
but i could buy that thing that end your life over a dolla, send bad news to your momma
holla, uh now give it up for my crew, mane
we hear you do thangs but we ain’t heard no new sangs
oops hahaha, we ain’t heard no songs
been rapping for a few years, but it feel like too long
rapping for a decade, rapping since my dad p-ssed
been rapping since wrapping presents, d-mn it feel like xmas
but i feel like i ain’t been repping for my true fans
so i gotta spit it for my motherf-cking crew, man
my squad!

[hook]

[verse 2: cheach]
my clique is k!lling compet-tion, all the f-gs are just jealous
my b-tch is bad as h-ll, meanwhile your b-tch is fat as adele is
shoot you from the waist down, no elvis. popping you in your pelvis
i never gave a f-ck just always draped myself up in velvet
always balled like costanza, bet your -ss they got their d-mn hands up
leave ’em out of breath, they got asthma. you cannot say sh-t – kwanza
talent gotta show like amanda, ‘cuz we fly to death – on that mandibuzz
you got no style like team magma, aqua, rocket, galactic and plasma
f-ckin randoms poppin mollies, now sweating ‘cuz they forgot me
waking up in their lil’ pacers, but bragging like they’re bugattis
tip your sh-t whenever you’re balling you should probably get a new hobby
y’all waitin for me to fall off? i got a better chance of dating holly
i’d have to say that my folly’s probably falling for these d-mn sk-nks
ain’t even worth my time, they’ll never come around like pokébank
i’m over all these trashy ratchet chicks with nasty packages
and magic tricks to fake my happiness and drag me back again
f-ck maccin’ just had a zach attack and broke her back and then
threw her off the edge into my hedges in the back of it
my house, that is, my bad for being a d-ck i guess that’s how sh-t is
when girls go to a party and forget who’s f-cking house it is
i know you b-tches wishin that you were, but you’re not me
i’m not inclined to ice in my juice, f-ck a n-z-
all we do is win, that’s how we roll – yahtzee
my gun go clap, clap, clap, i call it bolbi stroganovski
i’mma stick the pr-cks in the kitchen, or as they like to call it, the b-tch bin
quit the b-tching and moaning ‘cuz you -sses all just got moted
i’ll just catch your -ss in the morning no surprise if your chick is still moaning
(cheach, you’re going too hard!) sh-t, clyde carson’s coming better listen
as i was saying, my limit’s the square root of minus one
i lack some fancy chains and rings but maybe styve can swipe me some
flow wetter than some wippies after tryna dry some dykie c-m
(drink vodka then go driving?) aight i’ll try that sh-t, it might be fun

[outro]
yeah, f-ck the haters! hail based gob!
now shouts out to the homie j-rod, the homie styvekarp, and the homie j-lo
they in the motherf-cking clique!
and to the rest of you, choke. on a mother-. f-cking. weiner
little b-tch

- cheach

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