Clipse - Mr. Me Too Lyrics

Lyrics Mr. Me Too - Clipse



You know we back, right?
Clear the streets out
Come on with it, haha
Star Trak
Niggas is haters, I'm doin' deals like the majors
Ice Cream sneakers, I signed my first skater
So you can pay three and buy yourself some Bapestas
Bulletproof under T-shirts because they hate us
Do like Snoop say, "Step ya game up"
Double-decker boat nigga, Meditterane up
D-Class Asscher cuts, tuck your chain up
Liberace fingers, niggas hit Lorraine up
Just last week, I was out in Aspen
Me and Puff hoppin' off the plane, both us laughin'
A week before that, I was out in Italy
Italian heartthrobs could not get rid of me
Up in Donatella crib, me and like ten hoes
Call from the cell phone, "Give me that Enzo" (yes, sir)
I know what you thinkin', "Yeah, me too"
Okay, everybody meet Mr. Me Too
Been two years like I was paddy wagon cruisin'
Streets was yours, you're dunce cappin' and kazooin'
I was just assumin' you'd keep the coke movin'
But I got one question, what the fuck y'all been doin'? (Come on)
Pyrex stirs turned into Cavalli furs
The full-length cat, when I wave, the kitty purrs (meow)
All my niggas caked up, sellin' gray and beige dust
Have that money right or end up in the trunk taped up
We don't chase or duck, we only race for bucks
Peel money rolls 'til our thumbs get the paper cuts
Chill, retardo, South Beach Gallardo
Teal started up, go brrr like its Nardo
Women, if you love me, please let me know
Tie rags 'round your neck and learn the sets we throw
These are the days of our lives and I'm sorry to the fans
But them crackers weren't playin' fair at Jive
I know, I know, yep, yeah, you too
Okay, we get it, yep, yeah, you too
I know, I know, yep, yeah, you too
Okay, everybody meet Mr. Me Too
I know, I know, yep, yeah, you too
Okay, we get it, yep, yeah, you too
I know, I know, yep, yeah, you too
Okay, everybody meet Mr. Me Too
I know what you thinkin', why I call you "Me Too?"
'Cause everythin' I say, I got you sayin', "Me too"
I say I got a Benz, you say, "Me too"
You hangin' out the window so they can see you
But you ain't hangin' out the window when you in that G2
Or that G3 or G4 like we dos
Star Trak, Clipse, Malice, come on
Wanna know the time? Better clock us
Niggas bite the style from the shoes to the watches
We cloud hoppers, tailored suits like we mobsters
Break down keys into dimes and sell 'em like Gobstoppers
Who gon' stop us? Not a goddamn one of you
Mean with the re-up, nigga, we street tumblers
Ivory white, yeah that's the same color
Of a 'Zure, nigga, best believe it's the Mulliner
Take no prisoners, rap niggas are whisperers
Choke on your own spit just as soon as you mention us
Champagne corks is kicked by Louis sports and
Keep my hoes in Pucc' and Charles Jourdan, uh
Cop it, chrome it, touchscreen component
Mink on the floor, make you hot, don't it?
You don't wanna know what the fuck I spent on it
Tomorrow ain't promised, so we live for the moment
I know, I know, yep, yeah, you too
Okay, we get it, yep, yeah, you too
I know, I know, yep, yeah, you too
Okay, everybody meet Mr. Me Too
I know, I know, yep, yeah, you too
Okay, we get it, yep, yeah, you too
I know, I know, yep, yeah, you too
Okay, everybody meet Mr. Me Too



Writer(s): Terrance Thornton, Chad Hamilton, Gene Elliott Jr Thornton, G Henderson


Clipse - Hell Hath No Fury
Album Hell Hath No Fury
date of release
28-11-2006




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