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Clique Lyrics

from Cruel Summer

"Clique" is track #2 on the album Cruel Summer. It was written by West, Kanye / Smith, Che / Carter, Shawn / Anderson, Sean / Fauntleroy, James / Goldstein, Noah / Hollis, Chauncey / Izquierdo, Alexander / Kilhoffer, Anthony.
"Clique" is track #2 on the album Cruel Summer. It was written by West, Kanye / Smith, Che / Carter, Shawn / Anderson, Sean / Fauntleroy, James / Goldstein, Noah / Hollis, Chauncey / Izquierdo, Alexander / Kilhoffer, Anthony.

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What of the dollar you murdered for?
Is that the one fighting for your soul?
Or your brothers the one that youre running from?
But if you got money, fuck it, cause I want some

[Hook: Big Sean]
Aint nobody fuckin with my clique(X5)
Aint nobody fresher than my motherfuckin' clique(x5)
As i look around they dont do it like my clique
and all these bad bitches man they want the they want the they want the

[Verse 1: Big Sean]
I tell a bad bitch do whatever I say
My block behind me like Im coming out the driveway(swerve)
Its grind day, from Friday, to next Friday
I been up straight for nine days, I need a spa day
She tryna get me that poo tang
I might let my crew bang
My crew deeper than Wu Tang
Im rolling with (Huh) fuck Im saying?
Girl, you know my crew name
You know 2 Chainz? Scrrr!
Im pullin up in that Bruce Wanye
But Im the fuckin villian, man, they kneelin when I walkin in the building
Freaky women I be feelin from the bank accounts Im fillin
What a feeling, ah man, they gotta be
Young player from the D thats killin everything that he see for the dough


Yeah am talking Ye, yeah am talking Rih, yeah Im talking B, nigga Im talking me
Yeah Im talking bossy, I aint talking Kelis
Youre money too short, you cant be talking to me
Yeah Im talking LeBron, we balling our family tree
G.O.O.D Music drug dealing cousin, aint nothing fuckin with we
Turn that 62 to 125, 125, to a 250, 250 to a half a milli, aint nothin nobody can do with me
Now who with me? Vmonos! Call me Hov or jefe
Translation, Im the shit. Least that what my neck say, least that what my check say
Lost my homie for a decade, nigga down for like 12 years, aint hug his son since the second grade
He never told, who we gonna tell, we top of the totem pole
Its the dream team meets the supreme team, and all our eyes green and only means one thing
You aint fuckin with my clique

[Kanye West:]
Break records of Louie
Ate breakfast at Gucci
My girl a superstar all from a home movie
Bow on our arrival the unamerican idols
When niggas did in Paris got em hanging off the Eiffel
Yeah Im talking business
We talking CIA
Im talking George Tenet
I seen him the other day
He asked me about my Maybach
Think he had the same

Except mine tinted and his might have been rented
You know white people get money dont spend it
Or maybe they get money, buy a business
I rather buy 80 gold chains and go ignant
I know Spike Lee gon kill me but let me finish
Blame it on the pigment, we living no limits
Them gold master p ceilings was just a figment
Of our imagination, MTV cribs

Now Im looking at a crib right next to where TC lives
Thats Tom Cruise, whatever she accuse
He wasnt really drunk he just had a few brews
Pass the refreshment a cool cool beverage
Everything I do need a news crew present
Speedboat swerve homie watch out for the waves
Im way too black to burn from sunrays
So I just meditated the home in Pompei

About how I could build a new Rome in one day
Every time Im in Vegas they screaming like hes Elvis
But I just wanna design hotels and nail it
Shit is real got me feelin Isrealian
Like Bar Refaeli Gisele, no thats Brazilian
Went through deep depression when my momma passed
Suicide what kind of talk is that
But Ive been talking to God for so long
That if have you look in my life I guess he talking back
Fuckin with my clique


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Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, Ultra Tunes


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