Illin'

[Produced by The Alchemist] [Hook - Young Jeezy] So sick, so sick, I'm sickle cell sick What the fuck you think I'm doing right now? I got my Glock on, watch on, clock on Everything's cool, no pressure, I'm chillin' Make them pussies sick, have em caught up in they feelin's I be illin', illin', illin', illin' [Verse 1: Young Jeezy] I'm the type to boast, I'm the type to brag I'm the type of nigga play a game of chess on his bag Full 17 blow your chest out ya ass Leave him on the concrete like the nigga working abs The way I work that work out, call me a trainer Throw that water right off the top, who needs a strainer? Brandon told me don't bother with forks, I use a hater Then I let him sit out and air dry; who needs a hanger? Airport hours, Sunday to Sunday Let them bitches fly out the yard, call it a runway Call me sensei: Jeezy Miyagi Got a old school whip game: call it Atari Got some redbones to go out to Phoenix, get that Amare And every time you walk in they crib it look safari And they don't play by that Young Money Nicki Minaj White powder in the air like 'Bron this for the guys [Hook] [Verse 2: Pusha T] It was the coldest Winter ever Middle of the Summer months Powder to my waist See my cocaine cummerbund Tuxedo all white Something like my prom night My teachers even saw jail They ain't read my palms right Nah, my future brighter than ever The flow gets cleverer by the year Killer minus the tattoo tears Cause murder don't mix with the shit That I got floating in by the pier Tell Hova don't pass the crown so soon Unless he got a crown for every writer in the room There's too many spirits on these ghost-written tunes So you can't crown the heir until you seance the room The CL wood grain like trail mix Evidence of fishscale where the scale sits No amount of record sales could derail this Stuffing dead prezzies in the wall like The Yale bitch. Inhale this [Hook] [Verse 3: Malice] I'm so sick with it, Malice got bird flu Sat till drought came; patience a virtue Who ain't know the Clipse get it in like a curfew? You could smell it on me coke-scented like it's perfume Sitting in that church pew, looking for forgiveness Wishing we had Tony back, now all of us are prisoners Took it all for granted I guess freedom was a privilege VIP toasting drinks, making up my spirits Snitch nigga hear this, lemme make it clear Eleven hollows in my Glock: whom shall I fear? And I ain't gotta tip-toe, I walk without a care I'm chilling like the hook say, of whom shall I beware? Death is not a scare, in fact I yearn for my father's house Fuck you pussy niggas yeah, Mal has got a potty mouth I won't fuck around and show you exactly what I'm talking 'bout Even though I walk by faith I'm still keeping that shotty out