"Whips And Kicks" lyrics
(feat. AZ)
[Raekwon:]
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah nigga
That's all y'all niggas talk about all fucking day man
The whips man. Fucking cars and all that shit
Fucking vehicles and shit man
We been swinging and all these niggas need to cut it out man
'Cause y'all niggas is babies man
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
Benzes. Five-sixties'. Gallants 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
[AZ:]
Eighty-four mopeds. Blue-and-white Pro-Keds
Just started puffing. Got instructions for an old head
Co-ved. Wally-rocking niggas 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. Tailor-made shit
Kareem Laker colors. Low-cut suede tip
Stay dipped. Stan Smith lay sick
Two-toned colors. Put the taps on the rubber
Puma-rocking nigga. Fuck a womber I was bigger
See a bitch in seconds and assumed that I could rip her
None hipper. Copped kicks with the zippers
The Filas arrived. It was Levi's 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
Fuck 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 nigga still on the grind
Haters everywhere. Nigga 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
Niggas. And I do it for real you dig
You know. I still rock the Gor-Tex and Tims when necessary
Other than that. Bogary low cuts the minimum
Or I do the Italian Classic Olympic-cut Guccis
Three quarters. You bum-ass niggas
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah nigga
That's all y'all niggas talk about all fucking day man
The whips man. Fucking cars and all that shit
Fucking vehicles and shit man
We been swinging and all these niggas need to cut it out man
'Cause y'all niggas is babies man
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
Benzes. Five-sixties'. Gallants 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
[AZ:]
Eighty-four mopeds. Blue-and-white Pro-Keds
Just started puffing. Got instructions for an old head
Co-ved. Wally-rocking niggas 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. Tailor-made shit
Kareem Laker colors. Low-cut suede tip
Stay dipped. Stan Smith lay sick
Two-toned colors. Put the taps on the rubber
Puma-rocking nigga. Fuck a womber I was bigger
See a bitch in seconds and assumed that I could rip her
None hipper. Copped kicks with the zippers
The Filas arrived. It was Levi's 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
Fuck 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 nigga still on the grind
Haters everywhere. Nigga 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
Niggas. And I do it for real you dig
You know. I still rock the Gor-Tex and Tims when necessary
Other than that. Bogary low cuts the minimum
Or I do the Italian Classic Olympic-cut Guccis
Three quarters. You bum-ass niggas
