Clipse, Stove God Cooks, Pusha T, Malice - F.I.C.O. (Official Lyric Video)

Stream “F.I.C.O.”: https://ffm.to/letgodsortemout New Album 'Let God Sort Em Out' Out Now Vinyl / CD / Cassette / Merch: https://letgodsortemout.com/ Follow Clipse Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/clipse TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@clipse Twitter: https://x.com/clipse Lyrics 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 * double crossing, talk behind ya back See, that’s where the knife go I guess they wasn’t * wit’ us Some * 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 * balance on tight ropes They know they not much for the blood Have my man shoot ya block I’ma send his * 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 * 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 Wit’ a fetti so strong you gotta bag it wit’ one eye closed My shooter turn you inside out I heard the Feds turned the crib inside out Drop the roof on you *, 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 * 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 * 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, *, 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’d done You don’t know what I know You ain’t seen what I saw, no You ain’t been where I go Wit’ a fetti so strong you gotta bag it wit’ one eye closed My shooter turn you inside out I heard the Feds turned the crib inside out Drop the roof on you *, let the inside out Fresh Prince jacket, boy, I cook ‘em till they inside out #Clipse #PushaT #Malice #Pharrell #StoveGodCooks