Comedy Central Lyrics – Clipse

[Verse 1: Malice]
Say dawg, let’s not get involved
You don’t wanna tango, I’ll dress you in a halo
Cock the gauge, polka dot your braids
Face you with a chrome 4 that’ll lock your legs
And you can’t move, I roll big and I can’t lose
They watch so hard, ain’t nothing I do that ain’t news
Carry it like I’m a stranger to the game
I cut short any whisper that endanger my name
I hold toasts on both coasts, not for no joke
I’m known in the streets on the account I know coke
And we got word that the cops watch us
But that don’t stop us, we maneuver and move a little more cautious
I hate to think that the dope game is my callin’
Cause it got us singing lullabies to our fallen:
“Good night friend, ’til we meet again
But for now in your name, we re-up and eat again”
Uh, I never front like I’m something I’m not
But being broke, well that’s just something I’m not
Y’all talk with hatred, but I live off that
And I lived off cocaine way ‘fore I lived off rap
Feel me, friend, if they could, they’d kill me, friend
Cause I weigh too much, learned not to say too much
They couldn’t take me in the CL, that’s way too much
And I’m too gone, y’all niggas can talk on
[Verse 2: Fabolous]
They call me Mr. Please-Believe-It, believe it please
I put the pump in your mouth and help you breath with ease
This guy’s in a hurry
Ma, I can’t even fuck with you if you ain’t in the itinerary
I don’t know where dudes is buying their jewelry
Why’s your ice cream, like it’s made by Ben & Jerry?
Y’all the type of players that be getting two-day contracts
E-mail snitch got Ds in your two-way contacts
I’m in the club sippin’ on that new ‘Ze cognac
In the number 9 Jordans with the deuce trey on back
The Street Family so cool, we could pull bitches
Even if it was July and we had on Woolrich’s
I got them teflons, to shove in the 4
That have undercovers and po’, recovering slow
The government know, the kid been loving the dough
Since I was moving white off the curb like shoveling snow

[Verse 3: Pusha T]
I keep the streets so numb they call me “Novocaine”
I turn over ‘caine, over and over again
Hell, so much clientele
I could lose it all today, be back the next day
Still up in the same way
As I left ya, all in three gestures: down, up and aim
I can define death better than Webster, wet ya
Now bless ya, and off to my next venture
Blocks so white, June look like December
Wintertime: snow everywhere, flow everywhere
So much dough, I fly my hoes everywhere
Ask him, Pusha T, Pusha-Ton
Push a ton of that shit that makes ya nose run
Yes I’m holding, whether it’s heat or coke in
In the door panel of my four-wheel motion
Ain’t jokin’, but I laugh how other flows convince you
It’s money, it’s funny, it’s Comedy Central
Mine’s mental, others is made up stencil
When I’m on vacation, my babies ride in a rental
I’m livid, they act as if I don’t live it
Saran wrap Vaseline, so they can’t sniff it
Yves St. Laurent knitted, shorts bermuda
You would think they was Pucci if you overlooked Medusa