Tag: Supreme Clientele


Fabolous & Jadakiss – Soul Food (At Vevo) (Live)




[Verse 1: Fabolous]
Time to put in work, we all got a job to do
I light a joint then ask myself "What would Pablo do?"
Coming through with the paper plates like the barbecue
Got the haters shaking heads like the bobbles do
Yeah, but it’s all for my family
The goal wasn’t live middle class and buy Camrys
I want us all to eat, even if from my pantry
I guess I’m just more soul food than eye candy
I feel like these young niggas need more eye jammies
More passport stamps, less trips to Miami
Yeah bro, we all need a little culture
A little time away from bird ass niggas and vultures
I tell you what you need to hear and not try to insult you
I’m too old to kid you, I gotta adult you
Listen, the shit is getting outta hand
Like fumbles in football, I humbly put y’all
In y’all fucking place, that’s my OCD
I give a bitch a little bit, but it’s mostly D
I be in that Rolls Royce knocking Ghost CD
That’s Supreme Clientele, all I know is buy and sell
We had to hustle to eat, it wasn’t no Thanksgiving
Pour out a little liquor for homies that ain’t living
It’s big dinner shit, baby, everybody up in here
Find what you bring to the table, then pull up a chair, yeah…

[Interlude: Jadakiss]
You see?
Without hope, it ain’t nothing
HA-HAAAEEH!
I like this shit, you should love it
(Kill kill kill! Kill kill kill!)

[Verse 2: Jadakiss]
Uh, let’s finish the game, Billy (uhh)
Do something and stop stalling, that’s silly (haha)
The bul over there just drawlin’, that’s Philly (woo!)
Invisible set, F class, that’s chilly (mmm)
Life is short, death’s fast, that’s illy (yep)
When ya whole crew got cash, that’s willie (uh)
To everybody living it up, you gotta feel me (yep)
And nah, I ain’t giving it up, you gotta kill me (uh uh)
Whoever you look up to, ask ’em, I’m a real G (ask ’em)
As far as this rap shit go, I got realty
Before being signed to a major, I had a real ki
And I ain’t tryna play you, I’m tryna give you the real me (nah)
Almost twenty years in the game, and I’m still me (woo!)
Niggas fear hearing my name, I got skills, B
The boy, the girl, the weed, I got pills, B
How many other owners you know that’s in the field, B (who?)
No license or registration, that’s where the steel be (uhh)
Honor’s in your pocket, your heart, that’s where the will be (yes)
From the hood, cop out, even if not guilty
Rich ain’t good enough, nigga, I’m not filthy
I’m hardcore, rough and rugged, I’m not silky (uh-uh)
Guns under mattress, money is where the quilt be
(POOF!) This is the last supper here (eat)
Last time we break bread, so pull up a chair, yeah…




Fabolous & Jadakiss – Soul Food




[Verse 1: Fabolous]
Time to put in work, we all got a job to do
I light a joint then ask myself "What would Pablo do?"
Coming through with the paper plates like the barbecue
Got the haters shaking heads like the bobbles do
Yeah, but it’s all for my family
The goal wasn’t live middle class and buy Camrys
I want us all to eat, even if from my pantry
I guess I’m just more soul food than eye candy
I feel like these young niggas need more eye jammies
More passport stamps, less trips to Miami
Yeah bro, we all need a little culture
A little time away from bird ass niggas and vultures
I tell you what you need to hear and not try to insult you
I’m too old to kid you, I gotta adult you
Listen, the shit is getting outta hand
Like fumbles in football, I humbly put y’all
In y’all fucking place, that’s my OCD
I give a bitch a little bit, but it’s mostly D
I be in that Rolls Royce knocking Ghost CD
That’s Supreme Clientele, all I know is buy and sell
We had to hustle to eat, it wasn’t no Thanksgiving
Pour out a little liquor for homies that ain’t living
It’s big dinner shit, baby, everybody up in here
Find what you bring to the table, then pull up a chair, yeah…

[Interlude: Jadakiss]
You see?
Without hope, it ain’t nothing
HA-HAAAEEH!
I like this shit, you should love it
(Kill kill kill! Kill kill kill!)

[Verse 2: Jadakiss]
Uh, let’s finish the game, Billy (uhh)
Do something and stop stalling, that’s silly (haha)
The bul over there just drawlin’, that’s Philly (woo!)
Invisible set, F class, that’s chilly (mmm)
Life is short, death’s fast, that’s illy (yep)
When ya whole crew got cash, that’s willie (uh)
To everybody living it up, you gotta feel me (yep)
And nah, I ain’t giving it up, you gotta kill me (uh uh)
Whoever you look up to, ask ’em, I’m a real G (ask ’em)
As far as this rap shit go, I got realty
Before being signed to a major, I had a real ki
And I ain’t tryna play you, I’m tryna give you the real me (nah)
Almost twenty years in the game, and I’m still me (woo!)
Niggas fear hearing my name, I got skills, B
The boy, the girl, the weed, I got pills, B
How many other owners you know that’s in the field, B (who?)
No license or registration, that’s where the steel be (uhh)
Honor’s in your pocket, your heart, that’s where the will be (yes)
From the hood, cop out, even if not guilty
Rich ain’t good enough, nigga, I’m not filthy
I’m hardcore, rough and rugged, I’m not silky (uh-uh)
Guns under mattress, money is where the quilt be
(POOF!) This is the last supper here (eat)
Last time we break bread, so pull up a chair, yeah…


Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks – Ryu X Ken


[Hook: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
Chapters of the same road, just a different page
We moving off the same high, smoking different haze
Either go to jail or we gotta face the grave
It’s all about this money, dog, we in a new fade
I’ma die where I stand, I’m a different type of guy
Birds in the air, I’m a different type of fly
Where I’m from, niggas like to judge based off your supply
And they scared to show you love till they feel you ’bout to die

[Verse 1: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
Bye to the corner, you know I love tours
Bye to that bitch ’cause you know I hate whores
New women, new states, money coming different ways
Yankee pendant on the chain, you wasn’t there, you can’t relate
I remember, won’t forget, it was year 0-12
Shows OT, still got it wholesale
Man, we had the city jumping like Supreme Clientele
New New York niggas, B, we like the Holy Grail
Chitty chat, fuck the chitty chat, fuck that
I ain’t trying to bring the city back… Why Bamz?
We the ones with the massive plan
Why these fronting niggas pose in pictures for the ‘Gram?
They pussy? Don’t forget we was there from the gate, though
I sold coke right before I went to Santos
And sold out, so let’s talk about alumni
Acid on my tongue, I was dead high

[Hook: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
Chapters of the same road, just a different page
We moving off the same high, smoking different haze
Either go to jail or we gotta face the grave
It’s all about this money, dog, we in a new fade
I’ma die where I stand, I’m a different type of guy
Birds in the air, I’m a different type of fly
Where I’m from, niggas like to judge based off your supply
And they scared to show you love till they feel you ’bout to die

[Verse 2: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
When the Fair and the Tan link up, they can’t deny it
Pockets looking slim like they on a liquid diet
And I know it ain’t right for me to swear to God
But I swear to God, I’m the best with it, dog
Man, you know we got the recipe, dog
Shit was written in stone, we on our own, we defying the odds
And I know it ain’t right for me to talk shit about them
But I swear, shit hurting me, dog
Tan flag, with the gold around my neck
Everybody show respect when I come thru, chiefing on the set
I done came thru for [?], I done came thru to humble
I done came thru to come thru
I came in like a dad, I’ma son you
When I draw no R, fuck a Sun Tzu
Me and mines got love for you
You my blood, I take a slug for you, talk to ’em, nigga

[Hook: Bodega Bamz & Remy Banks]
Chapters of the same road, just a different page
We moving off the same high, smoking different haze
Either go to jail or we gotta face the grave
It’s all about this money, dog, we in a new fade
I’ma die where I stand, I’m a different type of guy
Birds in the air, I’m a different type of fly
Where I’m from, niggas like to judge based off your supply
And they scared to show you love till they feel you ’bout to die