I’m Not You Clipse (Ft. Jadakiss, Roscoe P. Coldchain & Styles P)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "I’m Not You" by Clipse (Ft. Jadakiss, Roscoe P. Coldchain & Styles P). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro: Pusha T]
No, no, no
I told you, I lived this shit
I ain't up here just rappin' and tappin'
Spittin' and skittin' and shit
Nah, uh-uh, not me
I'm not you, I'm not you, rapper
I'm not you
Pusha
[Verse 1: Pusha T]
I keep that Ziploc bustin' at the stitches
Culinary chemist, I serve the malicious
To break the fiends fixes, one give you the sniffles
The other leave you with the itches
Transport airport with the Vaseline
So I can fulfill my dreams of pastures that's green
More cash then ya seen, with an Aston that's green
Me driving up fast with the lean
Zonin' family, keep youngins in them rented Camrys
Door panels full of shit and I ain't full of shit
Reckless-ass, God forbid they don't crash
From the panel to the dash, it's four pounds of slab
Nah, bitch, we don't believe in air bags
Cars turn tricks like them Ringling Brothers skits
Whether bitch hop out, or the Glock pop out
Ya know what I'm about, blow clear ya sinus 'til the snot drop out
No, no, no
I told you, I lived this shit
I ain't up here just rappin' and tappin'
Spittin' and skittin' and shit
Nah, uh-uh, not me
I'm not you, I'm not you, rapper
I'm not you
Pusha
[Verse 1: Pusha T]
I keep that Ziploc bustin' at the stitches
Culinary chemist, I serve the malicious
To break the fiends fixes, one give you the sniffles
The other leave you with the itches
Transport airport with the Vaseline
So I can fulfill my dreams of pastures that's green
More cash then ya seen, with an Aston that's green
Me driving up fast with the lean
Zonin' family, keep youngins in them rented Camrys
Door panels full of shit and I ain't full of shit
Reckless-ass, God forbid they don't crash
From the panel to the dash, it's four pounds of slab
Nah, bitch, we don't believe in air bags
Cars turn tricks like them Ringling Brothers skits
Whether bitch hop out, or the Glock pop out
Ya know what I'm about, blow clear ya sinus 'til the snot drop out
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