Clientele Kidd Lyrics - Singles - Raekwon The Chef

(featuring Fat Joe, Ghostface Killah & Polite) 

[Intro: Raekwon] 

Yo straight up last minute, you know what time it is 

Word up, yeah, yeah, yeah 

Word up, blip blip blap blap blap 

What up? 

[Hook x2: Polite] 

Who don't know? They don't know, betta let 'em know 

There they go, here we go 

[Raekwon] 

Aiyo Clientele Kidd 

Layin in the crib gettin' ill money, those who 8 hours get gig 

Got rugby's on and 4/5ths 

Attractin' them niggaz I go against, the money was his 

One nasty unit of murderers, all type of Goons'll watch 

Then four minutes later they burgulars 

I heard from the grapevine mine made it 

Elevate the name up, this gift gotta reign and his game went up 

And now he's stronger than ever, Nike jackets and Classics 

Go against it and it's instant vendettas 

He run things, gun down Kings, check the joint the kid flyin' in 

Crib in Africa with two lions 

Somethin' like the Prince of a jewel thief, so smack the millions 

Came back wrapped it up, too sweet 

The game is missin' somethin' unique 

I put too much to fall back on, I rather just sleep 

[Chorus x2: Polite] 

CHEF! We designin', rhymin' with Diamonds 

CHEF! Ice Water, it was all in the timin' 

CHEF! He gave y'all niggaz bricks on consignment 

CHEF! To the death and he Billboard climbin' 

[Fat Joe] 

Yeah uh 

Yo Don Carta' bomb harder over nearly everybody 

Very rarely you find me without the mini-shotti 

Just waitin' for Rae to give met he cue and 

you see about 100 Puerto Rican niggaz shootin' 

Get down, lay down, we don't play around 

I don't know what you heard but, we don't play around 

It's cooked coke, but look, but what the fuck happened? 

How you leave the dope game to persue rappin'? 

Already knowin' that ya shit was trash 

Breathin' hard on the mic when yo' click is ass 

All we tryin' to do is bring dignity to rap 

And you kiddin' me? I'm literally the epitome of that 

Uh, we much better than y'all, Terre-error the Squad 

My niggaz set it when we get in the yard 

Whether Marcy or Comstock, triggers 'pon cock 

Straight punch in ya lung and you niggaz gon' drop 

What? 

[Chorus x2] 

[Ghostface Killah] 

Yo yo yo shoot him in his mouth.. (nah) 

Fuck him, get the gasoline tell Terry to pull the act up 

Bring him to Rae warehouse, hang him from hooks then skin his ass 

As lame as he look he ready to cook (yeah) 

And he pleadin' for mercy, bleedin' from his dome and he thirsty 

The first week we made him eat shit! 

Videotaped his wiz and I fucked his bitch 

Made him watch me on the couch havin' fun with his kids 

So what hurts more: is it me showin' love to ya fam? 

Or you in the box laid under the floor? 

Or keep you alive blow torchin' ya balls? 

My murder chainsaw, ya bloods on my Scarface walls 

Not even Ajax can clean that, Jack 

We need that maintenace man shit that kill that greasy blood on contact 

Finish you off 'cause I'm pressed for time 

Your man and 'em will be next to die 

Mothafucka! 

[Chorus x2] 

[Hook x4]