[Intro: DJ tags]
Get familiar
[Verse 1: Pusha-T]
Waterfront homeowner, Miami beachcomber
Five-nine in Phantom, feeling like a loner
‘Milio Pucc’ isotoners
Bathing Ape, BBC Ice Cream, high-fashion persona
Chains never tucked, one’s never enough
Solitaire on solitaire, I make diamonds fuck
Masterpiece Rolex rest over the wrist
(Set wrong) ‘Cause in my eyes, time doesn’t exist
Flow effortless, I raise the bar for excellence
Like Provo, gold medalist
Olympiad, the flow is simply that
Powder by the drum, where it’s from?
Off the shores of Trinidad
Liva, Sandman, the Clipse make it four
You know who to come to score—check it
Re-Up Gang, what real ns wanna hear
Add us up, dumb fuck: the sum of all your fears
[Chorus: Pusha-T & Sandman]
Hate me but you love my style
Been getting money since I was a mere child
Bitch, hold your breath
Eat a dick up ‘til it ain’t none left
On and on, and on, and on and on (Yeah-ah)
Everybody waiting on that Re-Up storm (Can-non)
[Verse 2: Sandman]
Y’all problems gon’ precede us folks
Our hardest decision is picking what weed we smoke
Tycoon, typhoon when I breeze through those
Back blocks with a black Glock, regal pose (Effortless)
Had a mountain of ice avalanched it
Necklace reckless, chest piece both-handed
Wrist glow disco fat dad be dancing
Tipped the fates, your fate I command it
Ns wack and take shit for granted
This is the reason that we had to crash in
Now you’re scattering, panicking
Freezing in the booth like mannequins
None of that matters when I’m on the M-I-C
C’s up ‘til I D-I-E, Re-Up to the TOP
Heat up, no P-O-T, it’s your S-T-Y-L-E, book it
[Chorus: Pusha-T]
Hate me but you love my style
Been getting money since i was a mere child
Bitch, hold your breath
Eat a dick up ‘til it ain’t none left
On and on, and on, and on and on (Get familiar)
Everybody waiting on that Re-Up storm
[Verse 3: Ab-Liva]
Couple hoes, couple Cris’, couple Doms
Couple jewels, got ‘em sprinkled on the arm
And they dance the liveliest, the obvious
Color, the cut, the carat, preposterous
Monotonous, my name got it scribbled in the floors
Black Lamborghin’ (Ah) with the scissor doors
Touchdown, touch powder, touch pounds (Touch pounds)
Touch lives, touch paper, touch now
[?] so soft that I touch the ground
Diamonds CN kilos, Cialis now (?)
They screaming, “The reign’s over, y’all”
With that soft white
Sold a couple mill’ with my flip game over y’all
I’m like Pisa, I will lean over y’all
SL Maclaren, the one lean over y’all
Tran-S apparent, chrome blades under y’all
Feel I’m a parent the way I keep sonnin y’all
Lil’ ns, I simply Paul Bunyan y’all
Still I’m intrigued, the world still stomachs y’all
[Chorus: Pusha-T & Malice]
Hate me but you love my style
Been getting money since I was a mere child (Clinton Sparks)
Bitch, hold your breath
Eat a dick up ‘til it ain’t none left
On and on, and on, and on and on (Malicious)
Everybody waiting on that Re-Up storm
[Verse 4: Malice]
Don’t stop think I don’t get it, any time I pull up in that kit-it
Heart sink to your stomach, don’t it? Gotta deal with it
I’m too real with it, I’m copping weight
To in and out of time zones, scotch-hopping states
Waking up yawning in the Mondrian
Sunset on Sunset, that’s the ambiance
I’m way beyond that mule and forty acres
Check the Frank Muller the color of the Lakers
They can’t take us, so upsetting
Four-fif’ hold ten, I force-feed eleven
And ride through the hood, expose the youth
So they too can get a glimpse of that Targa coupe (Smashbar)
Check the proof, fuck what I say, though
The Clydesdales in that driveway
And y’all wanna talk that blasé
Got a score to settle? You first better get on my level, pussy
[Chorus: Pusha-T]
Hate me but you love my style
Been getting money since I was a mere child
Bitch, hold your breath
Eat a dick up ‘til it ain’t none left
On and on, and on, and on and on
Everybody waiting on that Re-Up storm
Hate me but you love my style
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