Mathematics, U-God, Raekwon, Method Man, Ghostface Killah - Clap 2010 lyrics
[Mathematics, U-God, Raekwon, Method Man, Ghostface Killah - Clap 2010 lyrics]
We gon', we gon', we gon', we gon'
We gon' what? Collect collect, nigga
And network
That's the part of the game, that's
The part of the game, that niggas
Never understood
About what the fuck we stand for
You know what I mean?
I got your babies, nigga, I got
I got I got everything, nigga
You know what time it is
Nigga, teach the deadly darts, you hear me
You hear me?
Aiyo, call it the Hollow Bone syndrome line
Select sweet nine, face this
Watch his whole face lift
Bracelets, murder niggas, luxurious
Banks I was drapped
Caked out, half a million dollars in coats
Flows is genetic
The Corleone connection in all
Selection, stock brokers with coats on
Make coke suggestion, all twin glizzies
Fireman, gucci boots on, sideways action
Murder niggas fear me yo
Cash that he did Clinton
Rentin his mother crib out
We send organize the Bill of Rights get lid
Drugs that Hendrix was on
Convesatin like the Dutch
Richie Conaway, Goodfellas who honor Rae
Flows that blow thru your roll and Holand
Everybody now, trip up niggas
In clicks we posin rhyme black
Half the year, half my niggas sittin upstairs
Takin pictures of ya niggas wack gear
Nikes that leap up in trees
Big guns and big V's
In front of your mother building, all knees
Yo spread mercy on 'em, get to moving like
Big Percy on 'em
Coming (thunder, get around that)
Porcealin floors with a dog named Ginger
Bottle cap niggas that rhyme, we the winners
Then slide thru your hood in hoods
Me, Cliff, Patrick
Gary Grice and my man C woods
Holdin up gorilla
Two niggas got a hold that shit
One shot and ya mans on it
The little kids watch from down the block
Jury box, murder hop, six stash botch
Fit hit the ran spots
Spit at the statue with cash
And throw dough at it
Fuck bitches raw, why? cuz I'm a pro at it
Big birds danglin, cameras snatch
Flash and pop from every angle and
2000 Mark Damian
I drink till I'm drunk, smoke
Skunk with my stinkin ass, smell the funk
Eekin out the pours, cum stain
Shitty drawers
Pissin down ya elevators shaft, no class
Writin graf' on ya walls
It be us, fuck ya law
Niggas my cause is "because"
No yin to my yang, it's a black thing
Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains
Took the crack game applied it
To the rap game, y'all
Pop quiz, now, what artist hit's the hardest?
Ya down with the syndrome: retarted
I think it was them swordsmen
Place them chess pieces on the boards and
Take it to square, this ain't no Yacub affair
Or a New World Disorder, got us
Fuckin the coal miner daughter
That y'all, but not us
(Big shit, thunder) Get around that
We gon' what? Collect collect, nigga
And network
That's the part of the game, that's
The part of the game, that niggas
Never understood
About what the fuck we stand for
You know what I mean?
I got your babies, nigga, I got
I got I got everything, nigga
You know what time it is
Nigga, teach the deadly darts, you hear me
You hear me?
Aiyo, call it the Hollow Bone syndrome line
Select sweet nine, face this
Watch his whole face lift
Bracelets, murder niggas, luxurious
Banks I was drapped
Caked out, half a million dollars in coats
Flows is genetic
The Corleone connection in all
Selection, stock brokers with coats on
Make coke suggestion, all twin glizzies
Fireman, gucci boots on, sideways action
Murder niggas fear me yo
Cash that he did Clinton
Rentin his mother crib out
We send organize the Bill of Rights get lid
Drugs that Hendrix was on
Convesatin like the Dutch
Richie Conaway, Goodfellas who honor Rae
Flows that blow thru your roll and Holand
Everybody now, trip up niggas
In clicks we posin rhyme black
Half the year, half my niggas sittin upstairs
Takin pictures of ya niggas wack gear
Nikes that leap up in trees
Big guns and big V's
In front of your mother building, all knees
Yo spread mercy on 'em, get to moving like
Big Percy on 'em
Coming (thunder, get around that)
Porcealin floors with a dog named Ginger
Bottle cap niggas that rhyme, we the winners
Then slide thru your hood in hoods
Me, Cliff, Patrick
Gary Grice and my man C woods
Holdin up gorilla
Two niggas got a hold that shit
One shot and ya mans on it
The little kids watch from down the block
Jury box, murder hop, six stash botch
Fit hit the ran spots
Spit at the statue with cash
And throw dough at it
Fuck bitches raw, why? cuz I'm a pro at it
Big birds danglin, cameras snatch
Flash and pop from every angle and
2000 Mark Damian
I drink till I'm drunk, smoke
Skunk with my stinkin ass, smell the funk
Eekin out the pours, cum stain
Shitty drawers
Pissin down ya elevators shaft, no class
Writin graf' on ya walls
It be us, fuck ya law
Niggas my cause is "because"
No yin to my yang, it's a black thing
Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains
Took the crack game applied it
To the rap game, y'all
Pop quiz, now, what artist hit's the hardest?
Ya down with the syndrome: retarted
I think it was them swordsmen
Place them chess pieces on the boards and
Take it to square, this ain't no Yacub affair
Or a New World Disorder, got us
Fuckin the coal miner daughter
That y'all, but not us
(Big shit, thunder) Get around that