Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Clutch, artist - Erick Sermon. Album song E.S.P. (Erick Sermon's Perception), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 28.04.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Def Squad
Song language: English
Clutch |
I’m the type of nigga you need in the clutch |
Anybody disrespecting the brand they get touched |
Def Squad, Wu we coming through can’t you tell a |
Bunch of niggas walking down the block like it’s Selma |
But we strapped with an automat' |
Just in case they act up we fighting back |
Sorry Martin |
I ain’t the one startin' |
I’m home chillin' |
I gotta cook and do homework with my children |
But I’m back at it, rhyme and beat makin' |
This dope like a habit, these cats got to have it |
The MP breakdown, I’m beatin' on the tablet |
I ain’t lettin' no one breathe go ask |
Enoughs enough, the stuff ya’ll releasin' |
Had to call Method Man up to start beastin' |
Everybody scared to speak up |
What you afraid of, you don’t wanna get beat up? |
Fuck it, you suck, I said it |
Ease up, I’m not Tyson but it hit you it freeze ups |
Schwarzenegger |
I got a cop lady-friend that gave me a tazer |
So I’m gon go to jail for life for killing a hater |
So while I’m in the streets I’m getting paper |
Lockin' down the blocks don’t fuck around and get shot homie |
Duke you soft, comforter |
These chicks ain’t loyal my homeboy, he humpin' her |
Fuck Ya’ll |
I’m the type of nigga you need in the clutch |
Anybody disrespecting the brand they get touched |
Def Squad, Wu we coming through can’t you tell a |
Bunch of niggas walking down the block like it’s Selma |
But we strapped with an automat' |
Just in case they act up we fighting back |
Sorry Martin |
I ain’t the one startin' |
I’m home chillin' |
I gotta cook and do homework with my children |
METH |
E, check they persona non grata |
Prizing in the game one nada |
I guzzle Ghost Lager |
You still a 40 thief, ali baba |
Corner store robber I feel sorry for your mama |
I’m a menace, a monster |
Meth lab chemist with the contra, no limit |
They only see murder they ain’t in it |
Imposters, pop one minute then they mobsters |
We get it |
Pretend it went pop or it’s hot, love pretendin' |
I ain’t playin' the fun ended |
Still not a player like Big Pun |
No pun intended |
We in these tenements, big guns second a minute |
Gives you the right to bear one, I recommend it |
You timid, here’s a middle finger, you finished |
This other middle finger’s for anybody offended |
Them gimmicks, see I spot 'em just like a blemish |
I criticize the image, cause everybody’s a critic |
I’m the type of nigga you need in the clutch |
Anybody disrespecting the brand they get touched |
Def Squad, Wu we coming through can’t you tell a |
Bunch of niggas walking down the block like it’s Selma |
But we strapped with an automat' |
Just in case they act up we fighting back |
Sorry Martin |
I ain’t the one startin' |
I’m home chillin' |
I gotta cook and do homework |
Yo, welcome everyone to my thoughts |
I carry the hammer like judge in court |
The streets them gone wild |
Right through the cannabis plant |
And when I chant every verse you can actually see the sound cloud |
Wow |
Redman you done grown up |
Grown man do grown man shit what you expect |
Rap and drug dealing, the same thing |
The strength depends on yo' connects |
I was taught well |
Never wrote a verse sittin' in a cell |
But I’m cold wid' it, a little sickle in his cell |
Chicks love a nigga they trippin' on his cell |
And I tell 'em my album out, hit me with a sale |
My bruh said when I rap, talk to 'em |
I said cool I might as well, harpoon 'em |
I got a gun from x boxing on |
Women and step kids they gotta duck when the step pops |
That’s why I’m international |
Tryna' turn up and get beat down |
This is hip hop |
You wanna walk in my shoes, I’m like |
Pardon you I got Jordans on, and them are flip flops |
I’m the type of nigga you need in the clutch |
Anybody disrespecting the brand they get touched |
Def Squad, Wu we coming through can’t you tell a |
Bunch of niggas walking down the block like it’s Selma |
But we strapped with an automat' |
Just in case they act up we fighting back |
Sorry Martin |
I ain’t the one startin' |
I’m home chillin' |
I gotta cook and do homework with my children |