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• Artiste: Pusha T
• Titre: Str8 Up Menace (Remix)
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Featuring Curt@!n$ (Intro) I’m a str8 up menace gyeah I’m a str8 up menace gyeah As I get my emcee 8 on (Hook) We are R E U P G A N G! Murdering whacks – how we ate emcees Str8 menace like emcee 8’s Send the word out nigga, ain’t a emcee safe We are R E U P G A N G! Murdering whacks – how we ate emcees Str8 menace like emcee 8’s Send the word out nigga, ain’t a emcee safe ‘Cuz we are (Verse) Let’s race to the most higher, today I’m feelin right Money, clothes, hoes, just a day in the line When that paper ceiling high, might blow it in the night Let my bitch taste that cake too, today I’m feeling iced Rubber band bands got a nigga feelin like It’s a Bentley in my jeans, welcome squares to the light It’s bad on the anthem, young niggas like Mike If you flashin and they owe Jackson for that ice I feel the pressure like the devil tryna get us all Fashion killer all noir, getting leathers off Got it dead on the streets, better settle boy They could’ve been jewelers the way they be getting metal dog I try to tell them broads I’m a stickin mover They frontin for them flicks, don’t let them pictures fool ya ‘Cause I drop jewels and keep one eye open Like Rick DeRulo, that send me near like Crysesa Munda So excuse you as I cruise through Me and susu and 4-58 going coocoo And I fucked the baddest, phone book full on who’s who’s Dope boy Pusha T, some nigga used to (Hook) We are R E U P G A N G! Murdering whacks – how we ate emcees Str8 menace like emcee 8’s Send the word out nigga, ain’t a emcee safe We are R E U P G A N G! Murdering whacks – how we ate emcees Str8 menace like emcee 8’s Send the word out nigga, ain’t a emcee safe ‘Cuz we are (Verse) Fuck them niggas and they thousand dollar issues I’m sick of listening, you could tell it to the pistol No first down when I’m letting off these whistles Remove the chings, not enough? We gon miss you Keep it crystal clear like my ear, Blood diamond, pay homage to these solitaires No remorse, no recourse, married to the game bitch, no divorce Like a catholic, I’m so used to having it Seen niggas skip over stages and they grabbing it My niggas lifers, yo niggas swipers Have no respect for yo white collar indictments We sold dope just to fuck bitches and buy cars Started flippin lunch money tryna buy an azad Your baby mother’s on my tripod Hah! And she got curtains on her iPod