[Hook: Pharrell]
You're out of line!
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin' 'bout
You're out of line!
When I was a young boy
You're out of line!
My mama always told me, "Don't take no shit"
You're out of line!
"Motherfucker hit you, yeah, you better hit 'em back"
You're out of line!
So when I hit the nigga, it go, "Blam!" Ugh
You're out of line!
A nigga out of line, ugh
[Verse 1: Malice]
Back when I was 'bout Big Wheels and race tracks
Pops pushed a Tornado and rolled to eight-tracks
Never stood a chance, exposed from way back
Lying to the baby, saying it's Ajax
I was 'bout four when I walked past that door
That should've been closed where I first witnessed the raw
See, in my household, it was quite unique
Playing hide-and-seek, you might find a ki'
Caught glimpse accidental, it branded my mental
Pals, my role model, in that Lincoln Continental
Bought all my friends Icees, it was 'bout six
And when he pulled off, I was like, "See! Told you we was rich!"
How I turned out—let it be no surprise
When they speak of cousin Ricky, it brings tears to their eyes
See, my family got a history of hustlers
Lil' brother, big brother, mother to grandmother—it's tradition
[Hook: Pharrell]
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin' 'bout
You're out of line!
When I was a young boy
You're out of line!
My mama always told me, "Don't take no shit"
You're out of line!
"Motherfucker hit you, yeah, you better hit 'em back"
You're out of line!
So when I hit the nigga, it go, "Blam!" Ugh
You're out of line!
A nigga out of line, I said—
You're out of line!
Motherfuckers out of line
[Verse 2: Pusha T]
My mama didn't see it coming; my daddy was there
What's my excuse? Cartoons were the root
Started with Yosemite Sam, with the gun in—
Palm of each hand—what couldn't I demand? See—
Thirteen, studied the gangsta's lean
Low brim, no smile; lot of cash, meanwhile
Daddy had the Chrysler Fifth Ave-y
Hustlers on the blocks cars were aero-dynam-y
With ghetto paint-jobs, Mango M3s
Seventeen-inch BBs riding tough
The bike was Huffy; attention was froze
In a twenty-five-cent frozen cup laid my soul
The streets had made the mold
Since fourteen, holding—Pusha T was chosen
Rebel like Che Guevara
RC Tyco versus Carreras—P!
[Hook: Pharrell]
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin 'bout
You're out of line!
When I was a young boy
You're out of line!
My mama always told me, "Don't take no shit"
You're out of line!
"Motherfucker hit you, yeah, you better hit 'em back"
You're out of line!
So when I hit the nigga, it go "Blam!" Ugh
You're out of line!
A nigga out of line, I said
You're out of line!
Motherfuckers out of line
[Verse 3: Malice]
I think of grandma and the weight she would foot 'em
She kinda remind me of Madame Queen in "Hoodlum"
Sport the grandkids—each one she would treasure
Said she kept two guns and to do so was a pleasure
The cigarette dangle, forty-five-degree angle
Still every bit a lady, but you don't wanna tangle
Let that explain me and how I got involved
Young'un's hustling in the Creek—me, John-John, and Jamal
[Verse 4: Pusha T]
Age fifteen, walking through the hallway
Plate the new Jordans—first ones on the scene
See, I could afford 'em, living out a dream
Hustler on the rise, laces untied
Slid past young'un's, couldn't break my stride
Didn't know I was knotted in street ties
Teachers askin' how and why
Bitches passing by: "Oh, my! He's so gangsta!"
[Hook: Pharrell]
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin 'bout
You're out of line!
When I was a young boy
You're out of line!
My mama always told me, "Don't take no shit"
You're out of line!
"Motherfucker hit you, yeah, you better hit 'em back"
You're out of line!
So when I hit the nigga, it go, "Blam!" Ugh
You're out of line!
A nigga out of line, I said—
You're out of line!
I said, you niggas out of line
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin 'bout
You're out of line!
You're out of line!
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin' 'bout
You're out of line!
When I was a young boy
You're out of line!
My mama always told me, "Don't take no shit"
You're out of line!
"Motherfucker hit you, yeah, you better hit 'em back"
You're out of line!
So when I hit the nigga, it go, "Blam!" Ugh
You're out of line!
A nigga out of line, ugh
[Verse 1: Malice]
Back when I was 'bout Big Wheels and race tracks
Pops pushed a Tornado and rolled to eight-tracks
Never stood a chance, exposed from way back
Lying to the baby, saying it's Ajax
I was 'bout four when I walked past that door
That should've been closed where I first witnessed the raw
See, in my household, it was quite unique
Playing hide-and-seek, you might find a ki'
Caught glimpse accidental, it branded my mental
Pals, my role model, in that Lincoln Continental
Bought all my friends Icees, it was 'bout six
And when he pulled off, I was like, "See! Told you we was rich!"
How I turned out—let it be no surprise
When they speak of cousin Ricky, it brings tears to their eyes
See, my family got a history of hustlers
Lil' brother, big brother, mother to grandmother—it's tradition
[Hook: Pharrell]
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin' 'bout
You're out of line!
When I was a young boy
You're out of line!
My mama always told me, "Don't take no shit"
You're out of line!
"Motherfucker hit you, yeah, you better hit 'em back"
You're out of line!
So when I hit the nigga, it go, "Blam!" Ugh
You're out of line!
A nigga out of line, I said—
You're out of line!
Motherfuckers out of line
[Verse 2: Pusha T]
My mama didn't see it coming; my daddy was there
What's my excuse? Cartoons were the root
Started with Yosemite Sam, with the gun in—
Palm of each hand—what couldn't I demand? See—
Thirteen, studied the gangsta's lean
Low brim, no smile; lot of cash, meanwhile
Daddy had the Chrysler Fifth Ave-y
Hustlers on the blocks cars were aero-dynam-y
With ghetto paint-jobs, Mango M3s
Seventeen-inch BBs riding tough
The bike was Huffy; attention was froze
In a twenty-five-cent frozen cup laid my soul
The streets had made the mold
Since fourteen, holding—Pusha T was chosen
Rebel like Che Guevara
RC Tyco versus Carreras—P!
[Hook: Pharrell]
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin 'bout
You're out of line!
When I was a young boy
You're out of line!
My mama always told me, "Don't take no shit"
You're out of line!
"Motherfucker hit you, yeah, you better hit 'em back"
You're out of line!
So when I hit the nigga, it go "Blam!" Ugh
You're out of line!
A nigga out of line, I said
You're out of line!
Motherfuckers out of line
[Verse 3: Malice]
I think of grandma and the weight she would foot 'em
She kinda remind me of Madame Queen in "Hoodlum"
Sport the grandkids—each one she would treasure
Said she kept two guns and to do so was a pleasure
The cigarette dangle, forty-five-degree angle
Still every bit a lady, but you don't wanna tangle
Let that explain me and how I got involved
Young'un's hustling in the Creek—me, John-John, and Jamal
[Verse 4: Pusha T]
Age fifteen, walking through the hallway
Plate the new Jordans—first ones on the scene
See, I could afford 'em, living out a dream
Hustler on the rise, laces untied
Slid past young'un's, couldn't break my stride
Didn't know I was knotted in street ties
Teachers askin' how and why
Bitches passing by: "Oh, my! He's so gangsta!"
[Hook: Pharrell]
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin 'bout
You're out of line!
When I was a young boy
You're out of line!
My mama always told me, "Don't take no shit"
You're out of line!
"Motherfucker hit you, yeah, you better hit 'em back"
You're out of line!
So when I hit the nigga, it go, "Blam!" Ugh
You're out of line!
A nigga out of line, I said—
You're out of line!
I said, you niggas out of line
Mm, I'll tell you what I'm talkin 'bout
You're out of line!
( Clipse )
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