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re-up gang - we know lyrics

[verse 1: pusha t]
pusha ton or you can call me “ziplock”
yellow with the blue make green when the c0ke drop
fifteen years old cookin’ raw rock
mama gettin’ mad cause i was f-ckin’ up her gold pots
drug dealer, been that n-gga half my life
mongoose bicycle, i was stuffin’ junkie pipes
graduated now i get it for the askin’ price
‘me no speaky english’ if your f-ckin’ cash is right
dey know yayo
pedro, louise, lee lee. me amigos
oh! you n-ggas talkin’ but you ain’t never seen them
imagine bein’ on first name basis with the kingpin
you middle-mannin’ and i’m touchin’ the hands of the growers
from texas to tijuana, motherf-ckers know us
dryer sheets line the trunk to disguise the odor
your price is low but i bet my number shorty lower

[verse 2: ab-liva]
liva n-gga heater man
nickname, the cheetah man
like ishmael with fishscale
got it off that peter pan
rob peter, paid paul
played soft, faced loss
oz i pitch, like a friendly game of baseball
trade off cars with the tops off
blaze off, grown man the paper player
never turn that chase off
young n-gga sold dope, sold soap
sold hope, bottled in that capsule
n-gga, got it from my old folk
10 crack commandments, see. listen to the old goat
louis this, gucci that. labels hold them logos
learn from the old pros, prison is a no-go
new tires low-pro, shopping up at soho
bbc, playcloths, jays on, days old
five pair, one tied, retro with the lace hole
24s sittin’ high, chrome with the brake holes
re-up gang run it, it ain’t over til we say so

[verse 3: sandman]
just when you thought it was safe
f-ck a shark, there’s a k!ller whale in the water
disturbin’ the sh-t outta order
if you swim you get slaughtered, and i say, “ooh!”
i say, “food! fools in this school am i”
i’m droppin’ this sh-t too quickly
let me slow up, who am i?
fat daddy dough stack, philly’s mayor
a big “thank you” to all my haters
for fuelin the fire
my burning desire inspires the mongrels to keep spittin
i’m rippin through tires, spin
got to keep that, sh-t is real brah
where i’m from is the home of cop k!llas
215 610 267 1,492 you eight bucks short
15 will get you 3, i’ll let you owe me neena
you burn me for that bread, i’ll act like i never seen ya
can speak for my n-ggas, they felonize misdemeanors
forever how they die, when they see ya. it’s real

[verse 4: malice]
now look how i got it, the cars and the cribs
i done sign on the dotted, re-up is a partnership
the four of us and we come as the apocalypse
hands down “we the best” i’m a narcissist
me and my b-tch, we out in ball harbor
she spendin’ my money. i’m hot and i’m bothered
i hop in the taga peel out ocean drive
nice breeze, at the top, sippin’ on coladas
dope boy fly sh-t of which i am a part of
where we all get chips and evade estradas
party on south beach
privé and madonna
we ain’t worry about nothin’
hakuna matata
pay your lawyer well, re-ssure yourself
like black gold, this re-up thing’s an oil well
trick on your b-tch, i’m sure she will enjoy chanel
or that r350, that shoulda overwhelm

- re up gang lyrics

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