Roll With Da Winners - Clipse

Roll with the winners, the soul of the sinners

Which ring, which chain;

the most our dilemmas

My uncles before me mixed the diesel and the blenders

Then crack came, I seen the coldest of winters

Mountains of snow -- made fiends tremor

Mink to the floor, we use the crème de la crèmes

Such a need to shimmer, the Benz got the slippers

Club owners love us call us yellow bottle grippers

Flipper? No. Whale scale tipper

I’m from a line of ex-kingpins that’s turned sniffers

Pray the Lord forgive us while the maricons fill us

Up to the brim, call them the coffee bean spillers

Blasphemous, he calls kis God’s pillows

Ivory white, bury me in my chinchilla

Ain’t none iller, no!

Ain’t none realer

It’s Pusha, just ya neighborhood dope dealer

You gotta love the gall on 'im

Twenty on the arm on 'im

Twenty-four inch blades, see the frame fall on 'em

Drugs czar, retired, like I was Shawn on 'em

Came back to star -- Jordan as he falls

Released to score raw on 'em, 2.2 pounds exactly

Tape criss-crossed like a bra on 'em

But the streets I was marred, I was scarred on

And ride around microphone fiend with the R on 'em

I’m Bad, James Todd

On the white part of the water, my third got scalds

On the right side of my palm where the soft got hard

On the right price, give me the light, I Sean Paul on 'em

Run the city, Sean John on 'em

New Marvin, screaming «What's Going On,»

I’m trouble man, I rubberband man, push hard on them

Same block where I crawled on 'em, I’mma fall on 'em

I couldn’t dare do the arm, and not the neck with it;

Jesus on the charm, show some respect with it

Don’t be alarmed, if y’all don’t connect with it

Something like the Arnage, if you select with it

To most a mirage, but even when I’m pinched

The boy far from dreaming, the Porsche with the vents

Tucked in the trunk let the dogs track the scent

«And I don’t give a fuck,» about our best defense

Catch me if you can I am ginger bread

And the mink interior is crimson red;

Y’all talk before they even mention Feds

Of how I got the block like the Dawn of the Dead

Seems amongst thieves that honor is dead

Bucking the court 'till Your Honor is dead

Y’all take heed to what is fall upon ya

You are in the presence, Re-Up, the ensemble

You got no choice but notice me, everything I drop hard

Challenge is wiling out on opium playing dodgeball

With some bullets busting out the narrow barrel

Hitting you hard, your fate don’t need no tarot --

Cards to be read, I reads about niggas like you daily, obituary;

Dead weight, my head straight, my bitch is very

Steadfast, that wet ass, ki daddy marry

Float through your city like I’m in a ferry;

took the 7−60 off it

Put 8 o’clock on it, Eight-Double Dot-Double Zero

Add four more, you know the time with my earlobes

Niggas is mad, niggas is last, niggas is fake, niggas is late

Niggas need to be in the lake -- the bottom of it

Fuck you buck in new brick boots

With a burgundy wet suit for thinking you death proof, pussy