Artist: Freddie Gibbs & Madlib f/ Action Bronson, Joey Bada$$, Ransom Album: Knicks Remix EP Song: Knicks (Remix) Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com [Freddie Gibbs] Uh, chillin in the 6 Smokin the Cali, +Ice Bucket Challenge+ on my wrist Young and black in the U.S., it's a challenge to exist Stove a thousand degrees, I'ma graduate to a brick Got me gradually gettin chips, all my smokers grabbin a lil' sack of that poison, if you can push it, I'll give you points on the pack As he had it loaded and wrapped, then they caught him up comin back Took a loss but on the next one I'll make it back on the tax, nigga Yeah, I gotta sell the nickel bags Elementary mathematics, nigga can you add? Multiply, divide it and go re-up for at least a half Smokers scared to cop cause we beefin, man where the geekers at? Standin by my window with my full clip (full clip) Malcolm told us we've been bamboozled and hoodwinked (hoodwinked) Another Darren Wilson get a badge every week R.I.P. to Michael Brown and motherfuck the police, bitch! [Chorus: Freddie Gibbs] Uh, yeah... I guess I gotta sell the nickel bags, bitch Uh, uh... yeah, I gotta sell the nickel bags, nigga Uh, real killa, drug deala, I gotta sell the nickel bags Uh, real killa, drug deala, I gotta sell the nickel bags, bitch [Action Bronson] The same night Chris Childs punched Kobe It was a Sunday, I had the Hyundai Then I crashed it, leather jacket like Slash did Face melted off the acid (melted) I bought forty dimes of the yah-yah +Downtown+ bound, +Julie Brown+ Know the hoochies wanna do me now, Don Bronson (yeah) In all white like Don Johnson (You know it's me) You ever had to take a shit while you're trippin? Balls off, all the homies by the ball court (It's kinda crazy) Shit hit like Little Richard on the boardwalk (Woo~!) I'm not the one for all the small talk, uh I'm like Christopher Lloyd, Big Noyd Big coins, rosemary on the strip loin Mike Tyson doin indos on a Haro Queen send 'em all by the Sbarro, it's me (Fuck with me) I gotta sell the nickel bags, bitch [Chorus] [Ransom] I'm in the Carmelo with twelve nicks, the L's lit I'm close to them niggaz that do their bid and don't tell shit Or far-fetch, them niggaz be doin the long stretch It's not that we're heartless, we're just usin our heart less You know stress cause niggaz to forfeit When I cut it, all my nick/+Knicks+'ll be softer than Charles Smith Lost grips of a nigga that hustled on dark strips And street corners, so many police want us Lookin to feast on us, 'member older niggaz and bitches would sleep on us, suckin they teeth on us I touch down, celebrate like Vic Cruz Spike Lee, got a front row seat to watch Knicks move Got no class like a nigga that skipped school Fix your face 'fore I play the mechanic and grip tools The block gleam every time that a cop scream On the corner sellin Knicks/+Nicks+ that's +Giant+ like Hakeem, peace [Chorus] [Joey Bada$$] Yo... Looks like they caught me red-handed When I land, niggaz from the planet get stranded And I ran cause I had a pound of Afghani Watch that AK-47 stick up your Grammys ..And I want all the ends 'Fore I let the rounds of applause in the audience Fake emcees get clapped up 'til they disorient Get out your seat, chairs up if you want more again, uh The happiest days of my life, been taken from me Now I'm just a slave to the mic - wait, hold up I don't think this chain fit me right Got a couple loose screws so I write, right brain trippy like... ...And I should let you finish too I'm at Finish Line, you shoulda finished school Now you can't finish lyin, so I diminish you They still get the teeth to show with no dentist tools [Chorus]