Ice Cube

Ice Cube - Pushin Weight Remix lyrics

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[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
Get this song at:
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amazon.com

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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