Pushin Weight Remix lyrics

[Clark Kent]
What if I get that n*gga Ice Cube to do another joint?
With my n*gga Noreaga this time (Thugged Out)
And my n*gga from Philly Lil' Gil?
n*ggas don't know what the f*ck's gon' happen next
Y'all n*ggas might just have problems, these n*ggas bout to sh*t

[Noreaga]
Ay-yo, Iraq, sh*t, yo I own that land
With-a, Lord Amiya like the rest of the clan
My man Karate Kai, he like still in the can
Bless this, go to U.I. like the rest of the fam
These little n*ggas growin up, straight diggin they lives
Ain't really f*ckin with the two, now they f*ckin with five
But its, sad to see the hood mad at me
Cause I went from Nore to your majesty
The same n*ggas that I gruff'd wit and threw up with
And the same motherf*ckers that I grew up with
Had free lunch with, played stickball with
Now-a-days they like Papi on some frontin sh*t
f*ck Noreaga, now I'm Melvin Flynt
Yo The Hustler, I ain't a player, I'm just a hustler
(Damn) n*ggas that'll love ya, and straight touch ya
Yo its drastic, hit you with the Glock plastic
What, run you over with the van-tastic
N-O-R-E, spit rhymes professionaly
Your boy, ?dunn gone dead? wanna run with me
Every pass you throw will get intercepted
International thug, you're just domestic
I drink Shmirnoff, alcohol infected. Its like...
Chorus: Ice Cube and Noreaga
[Noreaga: 'what what' in background continuously]

Cube: I push rhymes like weight
I push rhymes like weight a yeah-yeah!
*repeat 3X*

[Ice Cube]
I heard you stopped, can't rap ho
You n*ggas duck from the schrapnel
I'm pushin weight like a fat sew
Ghetto fab, I'm in the city again (be-atch)
Got you motherf*ckers lookin sh*tty again (be-atch)
See that n*gga Noreaga got them zig-zags
And our mags got you fags wearin sh*t bags
For life, n*gga we could do life or do it right
Tonight, n*gga, we can earn stripes and blast mics
Talk about the steppin off
A motherf*cker ain't never been the underboss
Always I blaze in hallways, all days
You b*tches ain't nothin but frugas'
Yeah-yeah, you better ask about me - Poppa Doc
And ask every freak you know: who got the c*ck?
So blaze one for the nation, I take vacation, offa conversation
Give n*ggas irritation, cause I don't rap about the nation
Get the catalogue, I battle dogs, and we'll see, only the strong will
Survive
f*ck The Source and the Vibe (f*ck em)
We don't ride, we drive-by
We Westside, n*gga realize, we alive
So you can get beef, Lewinsky
Double-double say cheese, butt naked please
Chorus

[Gilly The Kid]
Yo, Its a shame though, lil' n*ggas messin up the game, yo
Heard me spit and all a sudden got the same flow (Gilly rule!)
I die in the streets thats how the game go
I'ma tell you one more time, now let your chain go
I shoot to kill, you blast but you aim low
A ground shooter, me surrounded by troopers
Pretty women, gorgeous feet, with round hooters
You was born to fail, gonna die around losers
b*tch n*ggas get scared straight
But rich n*ggas cop a ninety-nine Benz September of ninety-eight
I ran up on you clowns with a nine on the waist
Run in your face, blot in your space, findin your safe
See you really are the fake we the cats that won't break
You n*ggas start snitchin at your day upstate
So on that note, when you come home, I'm pop you with the eight
At both of your kneecaps, where your weave be at (Damn)
You little sissy, on the streets, you was real pretty
Went to jail, Got A Story To Tell, now you Biggie?
See I'm the sure shots, you cats is the maybes
I'm the real thing and you n*ggas is frugasis
Crazy fake diamonds, fake shinin
And if you got less than nine and a half, you fake grindin
Name other trio thats f*ckin with us rhymin
Gil, Cube, and Nore
A whole different story
Chorus