F.I.C.O. (Explicit)

F.I.C.O. (Explicit) - Clipse/Stove God Cooks/Pusha T/Malice

Lyrics by：Aaron Cook/Terrence Thornton/Gene Thornton

Composed by：Pharrell Williams/Terrence Thornton/Gene Thornton/Aaron Cook

Produced by：Pharrell Williams

I remember late nights pissy hallways driving me psycho

The money wouldn't come fast enough

We was back and forth down streamline

Moving weight was like lipo

The rest of y'all stuck in a rut

Niggas double crossing talk behind ya back see

That's where the knife go

I guess they wasn't ******* with us

Some niggas get the luck of the draw

For others life is a dice roll

And waiting on faith ain't for us

When you young

You realize that you can't trust a mouth where the pipe go

They tried but couldn't love you enough

Dance music on my neck where's your water bottle?

Diamonds the light show

Looking like the sun in the club

If you re-ing up with us then your credit score gotta be F.I.C.O.

I'm talkin' 850 or bust

See you really real power when you make niggas balance on tight ropes

They know they not much for the blood

Have my man shoot ya block I'ma send his ass far as the flight go

Ain't worried 'bout ducking a judge

Keep frontin' for ya ******* 'cause any minute repo might show

You know that **** up in a month

Heard your man was in there singing for his life

They was calling him maestro

'Cause time that heavy can crush

When you pay a nigga back

Like it's layaway whispering "Die slow"

The last words you hear in the trunk

You don't know what I know

You ain't seen what I saw no

You ain't been where I go

With a fetti so strong you gotta bag it with one eye closed

My shooter turn you inside out

I heard the feds turned the crib inside out

Drop the roof on you niggas let the inside out

Fresh Prince jacket boy I cook 'em till they inside out

Go get a Glock 27 fits snug in the waistline

Both sticks came with the drum

I was 5'6" shoulder with a chip wish a nigga to take mine

Index yanked till it's numb

Used to call me "Windex"

'Cause this thing I spray gon' make you change minds

I done seen Hercules run

We was powerlifting 2.2's nah we ain't throw gang signs

My brick walk was second to none

I would have them take a number like DMV

That was the baseline

Checkout on register one

Miami niggas like Big Perm 'cause they numbers was Faizon

Cubans showed me nothing but love

When it come down to it every Stringer Bell just needs an Avon

Who won't sweep it under the rug

On the road with a load nigga break line

I knew where to place mine

I don't keep the gun in the glove

Hit the turnpike with the running lights that be on in the daytime

'Cause K9's sniff out a crumb

Hands 3 and 9 on the wheel as I'm crossing the state line

Dumb ditty dumb ditty dumb

Survival of the fittest you either get acquitted or face time

I done had an infamous run

My story gon' hit The First 48 then it's on Dateline

'Cause this really **** I done done

You don't know what I know

You ain't seen what I saw no

You ain't been where I go

With a fetti so strong you gotta bag it with one eye closed

My shooter turn you inside out

I heard the feds turned the crib inside out

Drop the roof on you niggas let the inside out

Fresh Prince jacket boy

I cook 'em till they inside out