Ain't Cha

[Chorus: Pusha T]

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?

Hmm, with the medallions and the rings, ain't cha?

Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane, ain't cha?

Say what? So you can get that hood fame, ain't cha?

[Verse 1: Pusha T]

Through despair, I traipse, bakin' pies, makin' cake

Hustling them E's and that C and that H

While you probably talking frantic on the tape

Niggas in the hood ain't tryna hear, "Man, it was a mistake"

They'll call you a bitch, not a bandit at your wake

Epitaph reading how much damage you could take

While I'm on the boat with your bitch, salmon on her plate

I know why you liked her, the head, it was great

Lovin' these bezel-set chains with no space

Eighty-six karats, you know how much diggin' in the planet this could take?

Patent leather Bapes (Uh, uh)

Closet like Planet of the Bapes

Monkey see, monkey do, monkeys following in place

Like I'm living in an episode of Planet of the Apes

You're watching the evolution of one of rap's greats

You niggas tryna take my place? Never happen

[Chorus: Pusha T]

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?

Hmm, with the medallions and the rings, ain't cha?

Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane, ain't cha?

Say what? So you can get that hood fame, ain't cha?

[Verse 2: Sandman]

Dig it, every time I do it, encore

Slide out the Lincoln with the suicide doors

My, am I blingin' like Baby with all that shit on

My block pop 'til all that shit gone

What? You pussies hardly eatin'

What you spend on a home is a gaudy piece

On the chest of a biz-oss, it's a must I fliz-oss

My dream team wrestle for cheese like Eric Bischoff

From the kickoff to tipoff

I give off rays from the VVs, ice glazed like lip gloss

Thinkin' they can see me, I beg to differ

Look up in the skiz-y, it's the Big Dipper (That's cold)

It's chilly in Philly, it's that real

Nobody know karate, more bodies than Kill Bill

Somebody get beside me, Lord will, his blood spill

Like a waterfall, fuck around, make me slaughter y'all

[Chorus: Pusha T]

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?

Hmm, with the medallions and the rings, ain't cha?

Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane, ain't cha?

Say what? So you can get that hood fame, ain't cha?

[Verse 3: Malice]

Oh, you just gon' take without askin', ain't cha?

You just grabbin', you ain't earnin' for shit, that's too old-fashioned

Look, tulip, I will never tuck a jewel up

Kindergarten, did they not tap your knuckle with the ruler?

I'm the era of the Juice Crew, don't let that dookie noose you

One and one is two, it's just as simple as Blue's Clues

The nine'll get the most of you, turn yourself around

For he who want to run up and earn himself a crown

Meanwhile, study something, nigga, it's Gucci parka

From France where the kids sing Frère Jacques

If not there, I'm somewhere mixin' vodkas

In a far-off land where they shake maracas and shit

Keep it movin' like them keys of coke

You're the hunted motherfucker and I'm Benicio

Not Tommy Lee, see, we never involve the law

If it seems the walls are closing in, it's only 'cause they are

Motherfucker

[Chorus: Pusha T]

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?

Hmm, with the medallions and the rings, ain't cha?

Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane, ain't cha?

Say what? So you can get that hood fame, ain't cha?

[Verse 4: Ab-Liva]

I'm a natural-born hustler, I, the risk taker

I get it 'cross the border, the alpha, the omega

My life, I scripted the papers, posh like the wrist in the cradle

That hug the diamonds that kiss for you haters

Grimaldi, it's so gaudy

But it's just so picture perfect as I lean in that six-forty

Five C.I., I'm on them blades like T.I.

Them niggas hate to measure 'cause they knee-high

Still slingin' that P-I-E what I bring by

Need .50 cal, pretty Desert up my sleeve, I

Still huggin' that corner so tight, it can't breathe, I

Never let it go 'cause a nigga gotta eat, I

Came, conquered the game

The flame and the powder and the pot

Stirred it crazy, hustle, I'm elite, I

Still in the game, tippin' the scale like Libra

You don't really want that halo over your Caesar, no

[Chorus: Pusha T]

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna get a big chain, ain't cha?

Hmm, with the medallions and the rings, ain't cha?

Hmm, gon' get your Air Force plane, ain't cha?

Say what? So you can get that hood fame, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna get some hood fame, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna slang in the rain, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna save for the Range, ain't cha?

Hmm, you tryna perfect your aim, ain't cha?