Gather around Miami Vice, all my cocaine gringos, ya know Miami Vice, Pusha spit this shit for y'all, here we go Youngin' don't make my cells rise,
Yo wattup ma I got a pocket full of stinky's Let's go spin these right quick, what's that? All my fly bitches like (Dirty money, dirty money) All my
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 do Star Track, Clipse come on Wanna know the time
All I want to do is ride around shining while I can afford it Plenty ice on my neck so I don't get nauseous Float around in the greatest of Porsche's
I'm having nightmares, ooh My niggaz say I'm p-noid, they say I'm just p-noid I'm having nightmares, ooh My niggaz say I'm p-noid, they say I'm just p
I got jewels, plus wheels Pullin' up in your grill, I'm so trill Your girl want Cosmos, Cristeels And she feelin' around for them pills Bitch I'm trill
Man, I showed up, pimpin' ya curled up I head straight to the bar just to post up I roll the dro up, my cup mold up B**** don't just stand there wit ya
wanted money Hoo, hoo, hoo, oh, cot damn They just can't understand or fathom my demeanor Unapproachable appearance to how I pack the ninas Out of two, Clipse
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh (Verse 1 - Malice) Say dog, let's not get involved You don't wanna tango, I'll dress you in a halo Cock the gauge, polka dot ya
Yo, I go by the name (I'm yo' Pusha) Of Pharrell from the Neptunes And I just wanna let y'all know (I'm yo' Pusha) The world is about to feel Something
Fear him, as soon as you hear him Upon my arrival, the dope dealers cheer him Just like a revival, the verse tends to steer 'em Through a life in the
long time Come on, drummer Uh, huh, oh, damn baby, shit How you get all that in them jeans? Never mind that, you hear this? It's that Star Track Clipse
like they all got a comment to make In regards to my paper, now they guessin' my weight They fast to predict the outcome of my fate Wonderin' 'bout Clipse
Niggas and bitches You are now listenin' to The real And that would be Clipse, the Neptunes And the new label Star Trak Top down, chrome spinnin' You
Yes sir Don't let 'cha ego trick your ass 'Cause this motherfuckin' tech will get your ass Yes, the semi-automatic tech is know to jam But if it don'
No, no, no, I told you, I live this shit I ain't just up here, rappin' and tappin' Spittin' and skittin' and shit, naw, not me I'm not you, I'm not you