zen
clipse feat. re-up Lyrics

Is it them blings that make them watch us?
Are people attracted to us because of our flashy jewelry?

The awkward lean and 'em cars that’s topless
Our exaggerated posture and convertible cars draw attention

I got them things, I cut and chop it
I have drugs, which I process and sell

I sell that ostrich, I’m so obnoxious
I sell a unique type of drug and I flaunt my wealth

Getting money, say
I'm making a lot of money, acknowledge it

Hands got the bubble touch
My hands are skilled at making drugs

Bike with the double-clutch
I ride a bike and shift gears skillfully

Two diamond jump ropes: My neck do the double-dutch
I wear two diamond necklaces that resemble jump ropes

Give a fuck about such-and-such
I don't care about trivial things

On behalf of the Re-Up Gang, I’m saying 'Nough’s enough'
As a member of the Re-Up Gang, I'm declaring that we've had enough

Turn it, turn it fire, burn it
Handle drugs carefully to avoid detection

Gram weight straight like a Nigga just permed it
The weight of my drugs is accurate like someone who just had a perm

Pyrex and water, player how I earns it
I make money by cooking drugs using Pyrex and water

Lame rap niggas, I’m so not concerned with
I have no interest in other weak rappers

On another level, my third bezel
I am at a higher level of success, indicated by my third watch bezel

My fourth gas pedal
I have multiple luxurious cars with four gas pedals

Fifty-five on the back, I’m a daredevil
I ride my bike at a fast speed, taking risks

The course is paved, the watch is pavé
I have a clear path to success, and my watch is covered in diamonds

You niggas gotta love me, I'm something the Lord made
You can't help but admire me because God created me

I got-gots to do it, do it vVS, my jewelry
I have to excel and my jewelry is of high quality

Don’t need no jury to find me guilty
I don't need a trial because my guilt is obvious

I stay gaudy, pockets bulky how can y'all fault me?
I maintain a flashy lifestyle and my pockets are filled with money, so how can you criticize me?

Ghost-ride it driver, what that mean? You're small, welly, nigga fuck that beam
I drive recklessly without touching the steering wheel, signaling that I don't need assistance. Don't concern yourself with that weapon.

Us that team touch that cream
As a team, we handle and make a lot of money

Digital scale what’s that scheme?
I use a digital scale to weigh drugs, it's part of my operation

(It’s all real) Don't touch that thing (Fake)
The drugs I provide are genuine, don't mess with counterfeit ones

Niggas faces get flattened and clapped-in
People who oppose us face severe consequences

Squad want action Re-Run, What’s Happening?
The squad is ready for action, like the character Re-Run from the TV show 'What's Happening?'

Every episode, the Tec exposed, Gotti body
In every situation, we reveal our weapons and have control over it, like the famous criminal John Gotti

Tsunami mamis, That gotta be why they watching
Beautiful women flock around us, and that's why people are paying attention

Now, how that forearm glow on 'em
How impressive is the shine on my forearm?

Feeling so grown on 'em
I feel mature and accomplished

I pitch work, sort of like Nomo on 'em
I sell drugs like a skilled pitcher, similar to Hideo Nomo

Snow on 'em, cover my tracks, low on 'em
I distribute drugs discreetly and hide my actions

So on 'em streets, I push blow on 'em
I dominate the drug market and sell a lot of cocaine

The car drop with the soft top like Bose on 'em
I drive a convertible car with a retractable roof like a Bose speaker

Rolls on 'em, go on 'em
I make impressive moves and succeed

I’m striking a pose on 'em
I'm confidently displaying my success

No opponent can come close, match tone on it
No one can compete with me, I'm unmatched

Flow on it, honed on it
I have mastered my rap flow

I’m feeling at home on it
I am comfortable and in my element

It’s Liva, the rider, The man they hang clothes on 'em
I'm Liva, known for my smoothness and style

With the belt, the matching shoes, The G-soles on 'em
I wear a matching belt and shoes, and they are high-end

I’m classic, the plastic got O's on 'em
I have a classic style and my jewelry is adorned with large diamonds

I rolls on 'em
I make grand entrances and show off my success

The self-murder doors close on 'em
The suicide doors of my car close, symbolizing my domination

Yeah, good gosh, a'mighty
Expressing surprise or awe

All we do is cook raw, push cars like Whitey
We only sell uncut drugs and drive luxury cars like rich white people

Like a moth to a flame, it’s so inviting
People are irresistibly drawn to our lifestyle

To opposite sexes, the stones so precious
Both men and women are attracted to the expensive jewelry we wear

Still in the Rezzy, G4, or Lear
We're still in the residential neighborhood, but we fly in private jets

No diamond in that bezzy
There's no fake diamond in my watch

I get grown-er every year
I continue to mature and achieve more success

Pay me for that feature that don't make it
If you want me to feature on a song, you have to pay me

Family all is see is blackface
All I see in the music industry is betrayal and deception

And you singing 'Mammy'
You're playing a subservient role and it's disgraceful

I’m from the old school, When the Gat was a jammy
I come from a time when guns were called 'gats' or 'jammies'

Twin four-fifs: The resemblance is uncanny
I have two .45 caliber guns that look very similar

I bust both in sync y’all niggas hear me
I fire both guns simultaneously, and everyone should listen

Now that’s what I call 'the big bang theory'
My actions create a powerful impact, like in the science concept of the big bang theory