F.I.C.O. Lyrics – Clipse

F.I.C.O. Lyrics Meaning

[Intro]
This just sets the energy. That “Whoo!” is a hype-up — like the signal that something heavy is about to drop. It’s short, but it gets your attention real quick.

[Verse 1: Pusha T]
Pusha starts off talking about the chaos and pressure he felt during those late nights hustling — the stress, the constant movement in tight spots like hallways, and how the money never came fast enough to calm the madness. He compares moving drügs to liposuction, meaning it was fast, clean, and efficient. Others around him were stuck, while he was always on the move. But along with the hustle came betrayal — people he trusted stabbed him in the back, and he realized quickly that loyalty was rare.

He talks about how life in the streets isn’t about luck for people like him — it’s like rolling dice, totally unpredictable. So sitting around hoping things get better isn’t an option. He learned young not to trust sweet talk or fake love. Then he switches to flexing a little — showing off diamonds shining in the club like a light show. But behind the shine is a serious message: if you wanna work with his crew, your reputation and resources better be top-tier, like having a perfect credit score (850 FICO or nothing).

He keeps the tone cold and controlled, saying he’s got people ready to hit blocks without flinching, not worried about cops or judges. He throws shade at guys showing off for women even though they’re broke or hiding from repo men. He ends on a dark note, mentioning someone snitching under pressure, getting mocked as “Maestro,” and how slow revenge is whispered from the trunk — a chilling way to say there’s no forgiveness in that world.

[Chorus: Stove God Cooks]
The hook is all about separation. He’s saying most people think they understand this life, but they really don’t. They haven’t been in those real places where the drügs are so strong, you have to be extra careful just to handle it. His shooter is ruthless — flipping people inside out — and the Feds are just as aggressive, tearing homes apart. That “dropped the roof” line plays on both flashy cars and violence. And the “Fresh Prince jacket” adds a flashy, almost ironic touch to how cleanly and stylishly he deals with enemies.

[Verse 2: Malice]
Malice jumps in by describing his gun game — the Glock fits perfectly on his waist, and both weapons come with drums, meaning he’s fully loaded. Even though he’s not a tall guy, he’s always been tough, ready to stand his ground. He mentions pulling the trigger until his finger goes numb, showing how real and relentless it got. People used to call him “Windex” because the way he sprayed bullets could change someone’s whole mindset.

He brags about how even the strongest guys folded under pressure. He and his crew were lifting heavy weight — not at the gym, but on the streets — dealing serious amounts of product. He didn’t need gang signs to show power. His walk, his business, and his presence spoke for itself. Taking a number like at the DMV just means people had to wait their turn to get served — he had the operation down to a system.

He gives love to Miami and the Cubans for their support in business. Then he drops a reference to the TV show “The Wire” — comparing dealers to characters like Stringer Bell and Avon, meaning even the best need someone to clean things up. He knew where to stash his money and weapons, always playing smart. Driving through states with the lights on in daylight (usually off for criminals) was a trick to avoid suspicion. He was alert, hands at 3 and 9 on the wheel, not speeding, just focused. It was either beat the case or do time — and he’s had his fair share of legal brushes. Now his life feels like something straight off a true crime show.

[Chorus: Stove God Cooks]
Same as before, the chorus reminds you that this isn’t for everyone. You haven’t lived their life, haven’t felt what they’ve felt. The drügs they dealt with were so potent, even bagging them needed extreme care. Their shooters and the Feds both tear through lives without mercy. And in the end, he’s got style, danger, and swagger all rolled into one — cooking enemies clean while wearing something flashy like that iconic Fresh Prince jacket.