Whips And Kicks lyrics

by

Joell Ortiz


[Intro: Raekwon]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah n*gga
That's all yall n*ggas talk about all f*cking day man
The whips man, f*cking cars and all that sh*t
f*cking vehicles and sh*t man
We been swingin' and all these n*ggas need to cut it out man
Cause ya'll n*ggas is babies man

[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Remember the Four Runners, Corsicas, back with the gold cunnions
Maxima yep, stances, Audis with sick vances
Datsuns, Corollas, all of the oldies yo
Riding through the city, Jettas and Volvos
Crestas' was for the extra terrestrial
Alpha Romeos, yeah the Wranglers and Lexus'
Pintos, Geos, Suzukis was the truth yo
Making them up town trips, cops'll shoot you though
Benzs, five-sixties, Galants and the fly Rivies
Riveras look grisly huh
You know we come through, something mean under the sun roof
I blow a blunt, poof, shorty singing I'm Koof
Yeah the Sterling, the Grand Ams
The Lincoln with the crab amps
Made me mad, in the Blazer we all cramped
Six deep, four bags of cheeba, a crisp beat
All I need to show you now is a sick Jeep
[Verse 2: AZ]
Eighty-four mopeds, blue and white Pro-Keds
Just started puff'n, got instructions from an old head
Co-ved, wally rock'n n*ggas tryna grow dreads
Back in the bush, Church Ave on the juxs
Shell toes, black and white, no laces in 'em
Pat U-edition had his whole face in 'em
Straight leg denims, Taylor made sh*t
Kareem Laker colors, low cut suede tip
Stay dipped, Stan Smith lay sick
Two-toned colors, put the taps on the rubber
Puma rockin' n*gga, f*ck a womber I was bigger
See a b*tch in seconds an assumed that I could rip her
None hipper, copped kicks with the zippers
The Filas arrived, it was Levis and high
In V Tracks I was simply the mack
Everything I snatched had to match with the hat
Reebok rocker, whole crew couldn't knock us
f*ck who, only thing to do was just Glock us
Valley Competitions and the Jordans hit stores
I'm sitting reminiscing, T. La Rock it's yours
Now fast forward time n*gga still on the grind
Haters everywhere, n*gga still gotta shine
Guccis all kinds, switch 'em up for the weather
Louis' in lime, Only do it for the pleasure
Come fresher, from the tech on the dresser
Fifth in the waist, still crys'd and I'm laced
[Outro: AZ]
n*ggas, And I do it for real you dig
You know, I still rock the Gor-Tex and Tims when necessary
Other then that, Bogary low cuts the minimum
Or I do the Italian Classic Olympic cut Guccis
Three quarters, you bum ass n*ggas
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