[Verse 1: Ab-Liva]
Who fucking with Re-Up? Can see us, conceited
How we art-fully paint these pictures, how they see us
Dope dealer swagger that proceeds us
Reads much to those that walk the walk, how they perceive us
Rap game need us, needless to say
But the creep up, locksmith, how I had them keys cut
Who can touch 10 up in they ceiling when they reach up?
Anybody can be killed, is what history teach us!
Godfather II, we on the rise, but I'm bothered by this view
Totem pole top; honor with the few
It's what we need-ed, heeded, He is
Sorta what the Greeks was, on Mount Olympus, can't reach us
Coy not to misconstrue it, prove it
Simply through the music, HD, but a nigga drew it
It's real life, you can't cue it
Life is a bitch's no matter how you view it
[Verse 2: Pusha-T]
No mentions of the best without mentioning the .4
The tales of moving powder like the Yetis, the allure
The writers screamed more, yet they don't run to the store
With all this money in the streets to write a verse is like a chore!
Ignore the lies that they tell
Under my cuticle, proof of pies that I sell
Guess life in jail is but a manicure away;
Well I don't feel like getting my nails done today, yuechh!
While you niggas was blueprinting Jay
I was in the kitchen with the sketch of Michael "Fray" Salters!
Of course I'm talking minus the coffin
Want kis at a discount? Come cop from the auction
Sorry but, I don't respect who you applauding
Little nigga flow, but his metaphors boring
Don't make me turn daddy's little girl to orphan
That would mean I'd have to kill Baby like abortion!
[Verse 3: Sandman]
Who you think you fuckin' with?
Man go 'head with that sucka shit..
I know you niggas trash
Y'all be on that other shit; so wack, make you wonder shit:
Who signed the deal for that?
Matters to me none, the splattering is be-gun
My steelo, Neo, The One
My ma-xi-mum, is Ma-xi-mus, you act as if
There is no one who can save you from us verbal gladiators!
Fuck it if you want it then Re-Up'll make ya plummet;
I anchor with banger backed by that cannon in 300
Rocking blood diamonds, blood money, blood ties as
Slugs flying, blood drying, you dying
Typical ending, the rims keep spinning
The wheels stay waxed and that's that
The game in the bag, like crack — who fucking with my squad?
Cookin' up that raw for ya fiendin'-ass iPods
[Verse 4: Malice]
Re-Up in the Gang, when ever have you ever such;
Splendor at its best? Modern-day King Tut
Bathe in our spoils, I tell my niggas drink up
Money over bitches, am I my brother's keeper?
I color the verse, each one a Mona Lisa
Re-Up-the-Elite the most famous of the Caesars
Chariots of fire, we single file the fevers
Laughing at rhetoric, we just not believers
Tables like Everest, all my niggas' fears...
Cum laude with this coke shit, we're over-achievers
Tower of Pisa, leaning
In that late model something, searching for life's meaning
Yeahhh, to the pot from the triple beam..
And wait for the return, like the Nazarene..
And how sweet is majesty? We feed it to the street, what a tragedy!
