Clipse – Popular Demand (Popeyes) Lyrics

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[Hook - Pharrell]
Mami you miss me, don't you?
Haters wish you could hit me, don't you?
You should call me "uncle"

I understand, I'm back by popular demand
That new C-L fly
Outside of Popeyes eating chicken and fries
Yeah come holla at your uncle
I understand I'm back by popular demand

[Verse 1 - Pusha T]
You are now listening to the all-time phenomenal
Used to bag work in VA at the Econo Lo'
Now I'm laying out at the Delano though

But don't get it twisted, the Uzi's in the lining though
Hollow tip dum-dums eat flesh like piranhas though

Such a scary thing to hear the soul sing "Geronimo!"
Pull up in the CL, the shit's astronomical
Hoes lining up on the curb, they fall like dominoes
Used to have this white bitch, she looked like Madonna though
Heard that she fucking LeBron, but shit...I don't know
Like that Bron-Bron? I had that long time ago

Butt-naked on the balcony at the Dolla-no
I mean the Delano, I mean...Pharrell'll know

The head shop bitch from D.C
Hey P, let 'em know!
(Yeah that bitch was hot...)
Yeah, yeah, but it was time to go

Them hoes come in "eenie, meenie, minie-mo"

[Hook]

[Verse 2 - Cam'ron]
(Damn) Mami good down to the cuticles
"I'm Cam, what's your name, beautiful?"
Like (man) I could get used to you
Woulda (ran), if you knew what I used to do
But call me uncle, yeah Uncle Cam
I tax 'em. (Like who?) Like Uncle Sam

From the jungle, fam, where niggas bundle grams
Fumble or you crumble, get murked on the humble
(And) the gat on the belt on the hip
(And) I keep it Pharrell with the Clipse
Drive a hard bargain
I'm Harlem's only Gagarin
Car foreign

The other man stood-stood stutter-fied
I know your moms, well. Tell your mother "Hi"
I'm the other guy
That got your mother high

Coke like a caterpillar, I make butterfly

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - Malice]
Goddamn, the boy's back
For pushing a mountain of snowcaps to avoiding the Kojak
The pioneer of the coke rap
I'm dancing with the stars, stepping on blow, doing the toe-tap
The dope return like I had it on LoJack
It made its way home like a road map, I fathered this
If I misled any kid that's fatherless
That burden's on my soul as long I exist

Generation lost, they saying they can't reach us
The answer is the Lord like Saturday Night Fever

I kept it in the crib, it made me a light sleeper
Whether watching for the Feds or avoiding the Grim Reaper

Way deeper than rap money and hoes, it's deeper than that
Fight the temptation but it keep coming back
Money stacked to the ceiling just as quick as it dispense
Who knew them commas meant you could lose your common sense?

Before it's too late all I can tell 'em is "Repent, unh!"

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