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Clipse » Chinese New Year
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	[Chorus: Pusha T (Pharrell)] I'm at your door, your eyes are like why are you here Judging by my steel I got something to do here Give up the money or the angel cries two tears Front of your crib sounding like Chinese New Year (Brrraaattt - brrraaattt, brrraaattt - brrraaattt, ka-ka-kat-kat) (Brrraaattt - brrraaattt, brrraaattt - brrraaattt, ka-ka-kat-kat) (Verse: Pusha T) Mask on face, glock in hand I was in and out of homes like the Orkin man Never listen to my parents like an orphan man Strong finger on the trigger like it's dwarf's hands Confiscate goodies like Repo Man Sam Make nigga kick that can, fall victim to the Klick Klack Klan My vixen eat ya face, like ya she Ms. Pac-Man; my wish her command, UH! ADT's ain't stop me. Simple like ABC's Snip cut game just as easy as 1-2-3 Breaking an entry so elementary Get what the hustlers get for trying to do what the hustlers do Give up the cash 'fore I turn you Cookie Monster blue And your man and them for trying to be hustlers too Earnie and Bert, I bet them bullet holes burning and hurt (Chorus) (Verse: Malice) Let's play cops and robbers, and watch Heckler & Koch turn cops to martars As well as niggaz wit plots to rob us Try me, I'll turn this motherfucker into shuttas Wit them 911's revin, gunfire leave brethren remains like 9/11 And get the sounds of rounds dispensing That clack up make 'em back up like it's invisible fencing When I picture bits and pieces of bone chip and flesh, it tears me to pieces Cooperate, escaping useless; trust me I'm your friend, I will talk you through this Trick or treat niggaz wit hoods want the goods I feel like Robin Hood when I share it wit my hood Don't forget, he who plays hero gets hit Don't let the 9 mill riddle your wits smarty pants (Chorus) (Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain) Sympathy? I feel none When you hear that humming, common sense to take a duck and get the fuck outta harms way Your dying would absolutely make my day Why he had to go look who, but he wasn't so he got betrayed This is what I did to him, shoved a grenade in his mouth Hurried out his crib, before that My niggaz raped his bitch, molested his kids Filled it wit gas, lit a match, and blew up the shit While on this earth, if I didn't get you right you better hold your pistol tight When we meet in the afterlife, Coldchain I'm the black one that bleed Rosco P, young G, I don't speak I just squeeze 97 P will make you drop to your knees Before you know it, you'll be floating to a better place your soul feeling free I'm young, black and I just don't give a fuck Big gun on my waist, drugs in the trunk Sitting high in a truck, call me luck, com-press me (Chorus)
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