The Clipse Pussy Lyrics
            [Chorus - Pusha T]
            I ain't in to fat lippin, I'm in to gat grippin
            A cat's slippin, is a cat drippin
            Why I say that? the cat's slippin, the Mac's spittin
            The cat drippin, look in the mirror you's a fat kitten
            Puuusssssssssssssyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy-ah
        
            [Verse 1 - Pusha T]
            All I wanted growing up was remote controls
            Now my whole life remote control, hit the block dope control
            Got ghetto corners choking slow
            Grandmama go to church trying to soak my soul, oh!
            This one's for my foes
            Find yourself, in a hopeless hole trying to go against him!
            I puppet you Pinocchios, flows on strings
            It - is what it seems, just call me Jepeto!
            A Young Stock Market, put money in your pocket
            Cause when Pusha talk it is the object then I drop it
            I rose gold ya, huh? pink diamond ya, hah?
            Set it in a rhyme now the industry got pink eye
            Contagious, flows high demand, like the new Lou Vuitton Monogram
            Pastels is cute; How you n____z follow suits so well?
            These barrels encompass the heat from +Hell+
            n____ the Franchise of Star Trak sales, uh!
        
            [Chorus]
        
            [Verse 2 - Malice]
            They'd rather see me not breathing, than see me achieve
            Have my mama grieving, crouched to her knees
            Jealous hearted n____z, y'all wear it on ya sleeve
            Like a scarlet letter, for the world to see
            Can't hide the truth, decendents of pain
            So y'all get exposed like the sons of Hussein
            My game weight grown, this is no fact
            When cats was at hoop, I was Cadillac Brome
            I'm not these rap kids, wit childish antics
            Who make diss records, who rock hat backwards
            These are higher stakes, this is not average weight
            This is not pinching penny's b---h, this is carrot cake
            This is the difference 'tween rookies and the pros
            They pattern after me, they cookie-cut my flow
            But so (so, so), I'm never one that be jeal'
            Do as I do so I can say, "Papa raised you well"
        
            [Chorus]
        
            [Verse 3 - Pusha T]
            They say the Lord closes windows, to open doors
            n____ don't make me open yours
            Seen hearts beat through, open sores
            Subliminal rap s___, so immature, that's why I ignore
            Punchline n____z on front time, silly hoe s___
            He who questions I is unfocused
            Copperfield flow yes! I'll make careers disappear
            Like hocus - pocus - no joke, it's Push'
        
            [Malice]
            Mercy, mercy! Oh Lord who is he?
            Who curse me, curse me? But doing me
            It hurts me so, puts me through changes
            So I got Porsche's and Hummers to deal wit the anguish (oh, oh!)
            Acts live, but only if you speak the language
            ...And the rest is Comic View
            Star Trak The Movement, who you pay homage to?
            You don't want it with them boys, this I promice you, you p____!
        
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