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| Ice Cube Miscellaneous Pushin Weight Remix Thanks to rapforum@hotmail.com for these lyrics. From Pushin Weight Remix 12". [Clark Kent] What if I get that nigga Ice Cube to do another joint? With my nigga Noreaga this time (Thugged Out) And my nigga from Philly Lil' Gil? Niggas don't know what the fuck's gon' happen next Y'all niggas might just have problems, these niggas bout to shit [Noreaga] Ay-yo, Iraq, shit, yo I own that land With-a, Lord Amiya like the rest of the clan My man Karate Kai, he like still in the can Bless this, go to U.I. like the rest of the fam These little niggas growin up, straight diggin they lives Ain't really fuckin with the two, now they fuckin with five But its, sad to see the hood mad at me Cause I went from Nore to your majesty The same niggas that I gruff'd wit and threw up with And the same motherfuckers that I grew up with Had free lunch with, played stickball with Now-a-days they like Papi on some frontin shit Fuck Noreaga, now I'm Melvin Flynt Yo The Hustler, I ain't a player, I'm just a hustler (Damn) Niggas that'll love ya, and straight touch ya Yo its drastic, hit you with the glock plastic What, run you over with the van-tastic N-O-R-E, spit rhymes professionaly Your boy, ?dunn gone dead? wanna run with me Every pass you throw will get intercepted International thug, you're just domestic I drink Shmirnoff, alcohol infected. Its like... Chorus: Ice Cube and Noreaga [Noreaga: 'what what' in background continuously] Cube: I push rhymes like weight I push rhymes like weight a yeah-yeah! *repeat 3X* [Ice Cube] I heard you stopped, can't rap ho You niggas duck from the schrapnel I'm pushin weight like a fat sew Ghetto fab, I'm in the city again (be-atch) Got you motherfuckers lookin shitty again (be-atch) See that nigga Noreaga got them zig-zags And our mags got you fags wearin shit bags For life, nigga we could do life or do it right Tonight, nigga, we can earn stripes and blast mics Talk about the steppin off A motherfucker ain't never been the underboss Always I blaze in hallways, all days You bitches ain't nothin but frugas' Yeah-yeah, you better ask about me - Poppa Doc And ask every freak you know: who got the cock? So blaze one for the nation, I take vacation, offa conversation Give niggas irritation, cause I don't rap about the nation Get the catalogue, I battle dogs, and we'll see, only the strong will survive Fuck The Source and the Vibe (Fuck em) We don't ride, we drive-by We Westside, nigga realize, we alive So you can get beef, Lewinsky Double-double say cheese, butt naked please Chorus [Gilly The Kid] Yo, Its a shame though, lil' niggas messin up the game, yo Heard me spit and all a sudden got the same flow (Gilly rule!) I die in the streets thats how the game go I'ma tell you one more time, now let your chain go I shoot to kill, you blast but you aim low A ground shooter, me surrounded by troopers Pretty women, gorgeous feet, with round hooters You was born to fail, gonna die around losers Bitch niggas get scared straight But rich niggas cop a ninety-nine Benz September of ninety-eight I ran up on you clowns with a nine on the waist Run in your face, blot in your space, findin your safe See you really are the fake we the cats that won't break You niggas start snitchin at your day upstate So on that note, when you come home, I'm pop you with the eight At both of your kneecaps, where your weave be at (Damn) You little sissy, on the streets, you was real pretty Went to jail, Got A Story To Tell, now you Biggie? See I'm the sure shots, you cats is the maybes I'm the real thing and you niggas is frugasis Crazy fake diamonds, fake shinin And if you got less than nine and a half, you fake grindin Name other trio thats fuckin with us rhymin Gil, Cube, and Nore A whole different story Chorus |
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