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lirik lagu scru face jean - cliqued up

[verse 1: crypt]
nowadays to be taken serious you gotta have some face tats thrown on
that’s an oxymoron, all you high on oxy cotton, i call you oxy-morons
so p-ss me the aux you moron, i’ll put some real sh-t on
legit hits we born on
wanna step to us and that’s a move to regret
but you gotta get burned to know that the stove’s on
everybody thinking they can do better than scru and i
pull up on a semi, prove it to you that we do or die
you don’t want no (?) when no privacy, poppin’ off all the knowledge that we got from biggie, 2pac and nas
(?)

[chorus: scru face jean]
haters gonna be (?) that what it is boy
high lyricist can make it is boy
backpack rapping, just take your b-tch boy
oh sh-t, oh sh-t, they the clique boy
big up, big up
harder, spit us
we here, we up
we ain’t gon’ switch up
(?) us
for real, it’s us
the clique, fizz up
oh sh-t, they cliqued up

[verse 2: scru face jean]
stop approaching me
why you close to me?
below me is where you supposed to be
there ain’t no roast’n me a loose canon, so holster me
yo homies gonna hold ya rosaries
the same has molded me to be untamed like mowgl
my jungle is not a book
the soul in me has gone cold as snow
i’m supposed to be froze but i got them shook
dope as (?) flick of the wrist
dope is spitting but i’m here with the clique
approaching f-cking instrumentals’n sh-t
no we didn’t? better tell’um i did!
you sell’m sh-t, i’m just here to tell’um you did
to swing and to swell up your lips
i f-cked up some celebes sh-t
ya’ll said you was sick? why is you tell’n a fib?
you tell us this sh-t, stop keeping (?) quid
i still like a (?) of a clip, a h-ll of a 6
make a h-ll of a sig, make gelatin skeletons quick
you n—a’s are buns, (?) framed dagger
i’m about to relish in this
the people follow because my freak’n motto was some sleepy hollow because i’m ahead of this sh-t

[verse 3: chvse]
i’ve been overthinking (yeah)
think my boat is sinking (but)
all the pain that i keep bottled up (and)
it drove me close to drinking (and)
i can shake the feeling (cus’)
when i write, i read it (and)
i don’t feel like myself anymore and
i feel like i’m a demon cus’
when i’m rapping the heart man, it’s hard on myself
and all of my fans think it’s harder to help
they just don’t get that i’m starting to dwell on the sh-t that i’m missing the spark that i held so
f-ck it, really wanna keep this real
really wanna know how the f-ck i feel
really wanna know why i stopped making music
for the love of the fans, i never copped no deal (we’re here)
let me go and start at the beginning and they never gonna let ya talk about the life that you’ve been living
instead of humbly spitting they make you mumble the rhythm
and make a milli off of that and then they give a percentage
of all the money that you made about administering women
stiffing prescriptions to get into the niche with the dictions
i’m f-cking sick of dealing with it, man i’m feeling so wicked
i’d rather beat up in a minute then i’ll beat it and hit (hey)

[verse 4: duanetv]
cliqued up is what i is
i never give up on what i live
i’m going straight to the top
think not, then suck my d-ck
cus’ i don’t care who the f-ck you is
i put work in, you seen what the f-ck i did
now you seen who the f-ck i’m with
this muf-ck’n rap, all you some muf-ck’n ants
scants, so you tunnel through the back
while i’m jumping through the gl-ss
like what is up i’m coming for my chance
ain’t nothing ever come into my path
if it does, then it dies
anybody f-ckin’ with my plans better watch or i’m coming for your past, nothing is safe
(?) for the cash, we jumping in the back
ain’t nothing but a m-ss, but i’m taking it all
enjoying the winds and embracing the falls
(?) sick cus’ i need to be off
the moment i got it, you know that i’m on it
the sh-t was designed for me
i’m what you primed to be
no one can stop it cus’ this is where t-tles meet
i am the final piece, i ain’t gon’ leave
i’m here from the start, if you think that you’ve got it, well dearly depart
you nearly on par, but stuck in your lane
i’m here for the art, so f-ck out my way (b-tch)

- lirik lagu scru face jean

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