Copyright not intended, all rights go to Kanye, Big Sean, and Jay Z. [Intro: James Fauntleroy] What of the dollar you murdered for Is that the one fighting for your soul Or your brother's the one that you're running from But if you got money, fuck it, because I want some [Hook: Big Sean] Ain't nobody fucking with my Clique, clique, clique, clique, clique Ain't nobody fresher than my muthafuckin Clique, clique, clique, clique, clique As I look around, they don't do it like my Clique, clique, clique, clique, clique And all these bad bitches, man, they want the They want the, they want the, they want the [Verse 1: Big Sean] I tell a bad bitch do whatever I say My block behind me like I'm coming out the driveway It's grind day, from Friday, to next Friday I been up straight for nine days, I need a spa day Yup, She trying get me that poo-tang I might let my crew bang, my crew deeper than Wu Tang I'm rolling with... fuck I'm saying? Girl, you know my crew name You know 2 Chainz? Scrrr! I'm pulling up in that Bruce Wayne But I'm the fucking villain, man, they kneeling when I walking in the building Freaky women I be feeling from the bank accounts I'm filling What a feeling, ah man, they gotta be Young player from the D that's killing everything that he see [Hook] [Verse 2: Jay Z] Yeah I'm talking Ye', yeah I'm talking Rih Yeah I'm talking Bey, nigga I'm talking me Yeah I'm talking bossy, I ain't talking Kelis Your money too short, you can't be talking to me Yeah I'm talking LeBron, we balling our family tree G.O.O.D Music drug dealing cousin, ain't nothing fuckin' with we, me Turn that 62 to 125, 125, to a 250 250 to a half a million, man ain't nothin' nobody can do with me Now who with me? ¡Vámonos! Call me Hov or Jefe Translation, I'm the shit, at least that what my neck say Least that what my check say, lost my homie for a decade Nigga down for like 12 years, ain't hug his son since the second grade He never told, who we gonna tell, we top of the totem pole It's the dream team, meets the Supreme Team And all our eyes green it only means one thing You ain't fucking with my clique [Hook] [Verse 3: Kanye West] Break records at Louie, ate breakfast at Gucci My girl a superstar all from a home movie Bow on our arrival - the unamerican idols Where niggas dead in Paris, got em' hanging off the Eiffel Yeah I'm talking business, we talking CIA I'm talking George Tenet, I seen him the other day He asked me about my Maybach, think he had the same Except mine tinted and his might have been rented You know white people get money don't spend it Or maybe they get money, buy a business I rather buy 80 gold chains and go ig'nant I know Spike Lee gone kill me but let me finish Blame it on the pigment, we living no limits Them gold Master P ceilings was just a figment Of our imagination, MTV cribs Now I'm looking at a crib right next to where TC lives That's Tom Cruise, whatever she accuse You wasn't really drunk just had a few brews Pass the refreshments, a cool, cool beverage Everything I do need a news crews presence Speedboat swerve, homie watch out for the waves I'm way too black to burn from sun rays So I just meditate at the home in Pompei About how I could build a new Rome in one day Everytime I'm in Vegas they screaming like he Elvis But I just wanna design hotels and nail it Shit is real, got me feeling Israelian Like Bar Refaeli, Gisele, nah that's Brazilian Went through, deep depression when my momma passed Suicide, what kinda talk is that But I been talking to God for so long And if you look at my life I guess he's talking back Fucking with my clique.

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