Suicide

[Intro: Pharrell Williams]

Yeah

I just ordered one, my nigga

Yeah

[Verse 1: Pusha T]

I'm still a snow-mover, blow harder than tuba

Designated shooters, turn weed to woolers

Condo in Atlanta, money counters like the NASDAQ

In that glass back, the motor is the asscrack

I'm still feeding divas like I feed the meter

Holy father to 'em—I ain't talking Jesus, neither

Balance on the scale—I ain't a Libra, either

I'm just a name and a number with the means to reach you

Grim Reaper, him cheaper, hemp chiefer

His army: MCM on gym sneakers

You knowin' that hymn better, he been preaching

You motherfuckers is bloodsuckers—you been leeching

Been Baller, been Jacob, been dealer

Been realer; pound sign, been triller

All killer, no filler—been iller

Fraud niggas, you Zoolander: Ben Stiller

[Chorus: Pusha T]

When it comes to shooters, my niggas is trained to go

And they gettin' practice on bitches who breakin' codes

Thirty-five hundred, just point and give 'em a name

They back-flippin' niggas—that go for rappers the same

You don't know me, nigga—fuck out my way

[Verse 2: Pusha T]

Big difference between a renter and a homeowner

Hip Hop Weekly cover and a Rolling Stoner

Lufthansa: I heist, nigga, or that bitch Winona

Stop comparing me to rappers 'cause they in their moment

Might have crossed the name brand every blue

But these brand names to a brand owner isn't new

Don't make us equal 'cause we shared a bitch or two

She ain't the angel that you think—she reincarnated, too

I build mine off fed time and dope lines

You caught steam off headlines and co-signs

Young niggas cliquing up with my rivals

Like the Bible don't burn, like these bullets don't spiral

Like I can't see the scenes that you mirror in your idol

But a pawn’s only purpose is completely suicidal

Ooh, suicide, it's a suicide

I'm just talkin' to the world like it's you and I

[Chorus: Pusha T]

When it comes to shooters, my niggas is trained to go

And they gettin' practice on bitches who breakin' codes

Thirty-five hundred, just point and give 'em a name

They back-flippin' niggas—that go for rappers the same

You don't know me, nigga—fuck out my way

[Verse 3: Ab-Liva]

Nothing but cash here; this sweater's a cashmere

The roof is a translucent—it's nothin' but glass there

The car is a concept—what's next is my last year

My future is bright-hot; you never can last here

I'm top five—listen, who hot in the past year?

Five heartbeats, and I'm feelin' like Flash here

'Cause what I captured is the beast unleashed in the pasture

Story of the sheep and the wolves I unmaster

Fifty in the liquor, unwrapped 'em

Unpacked; powder rise and it falls, like Sebastian—

Telfair; tailor-made suits, handcrafted

Over Bottega Veneta, high-tops unfastened

S550 drop-top is unimaginable

To my hand drop, and then, he unattached it

Practice it, nigga, brick, break down, breakdance

Crab-walk, backspin, tanner than my Black skin

[Chorus: Pusha T]

When it comes to shooters, my niggas is trained to go

And they gettin' practice on bitches who breakin' codes

Thirty-five hundred, just point and give 'em a name

They back-flippin' niggas—that go for rappers the same

You don't know me, nigga—fuck out my way