Get Clapped (Feat. Mobb Deep) lyrics

by

Lloyd Banks


Front on me and get clapped
Front on him and get clapped
Front on us and get clapped (you get clapped n*gga)

Front on me and get clapped
Front on him and get clapped
Front on us and get clapped (get clapped get clapped)

[Chorus]
I know this feel different cause everything is good
They actin' like I changed like I went Hollywood
Like I don't keep it street like I ain't got the heat
Like I ain't homicide all over the beat
Like I ain't for the beef like I don't really care
Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it any where
There's diamonds in my chain there's diamonds in my ear
A n*gga come slippin' ill make him disappear

Ay n*gga f*ck all the slick talk get bread instead
Stay low strapped up metal on inf red
Too smooth won't slip new jewels don't trip
Been around the world twice jet, lear, boat, whip
Oh sh*t, I'm hella rowdy and I'm nothin' nice
Money ain't sh*t but a number name ya f*ckin' price
di*k rider, coat taylor, ass kisser
Sucker for love, time to pick up the glass slipper
Look around ass n*gga before you add liquer
Cause bein' an add libber he'll be ina bag with ya
I'm seein' a bad picture of bein' a cab skipper
Broke as f*ck waitin' for Satan to come and get ya
Keep ya clique tight know ya goals
Don't speed slow ya role don't speak learn the code
For they pop ya ass barbecue ya body
With beans outta the shotty while I'm in the Maserati
With somethin' that's gonna swallow me

[Chorus]
My trigga finger feenin' that n*gga p a demon
n*gga my fangs start showin' if I'm seein' you dreamin'
Get to close and I'm bustin' it won't be no discussion
I'm a boss I don't speak I just nod my head
And you turn up missin' with ya own page in the feds
I got power and I will flex on you real quick
Call ya dawgs call ya trick hug ya moms for you split
'cause you ain't never gone see that b*tch again
And this ain't a war n*gga we just havin' fun with ya
Like a bed with a baby if I smack ya I might kill ya
Half a million in diamonds half a billion from rhymin'
N I'm steady climbin' that means I'm still blowin up
Got you burned while you lookin' see my Ferrari in Brooklyn
On the corner of murda and duke so come through
Ill light ya buildin' on fire that's why these rappers retire
'cause they tired of dealin' with n*ggas like me

[Chorus]
Now enough with all the lame sh*t and wrestlin' games kid
I need the rocks to fill the rest of the chain with
I need the block to feel the best that I came with
I need the cops to get the f*ck off of my di*k
Different day same sh*t media and paparazzi love
Envy and betrayal my hearts as cold as hockey gloves
I light up and take off that beef and broccoli high
Chocolate tie, green skunk, south Jamaica queens punk
Stand up ya boys back put ya grams up
Get money you ain't heard nothin' but a hit from me
Quit dummy cause its a changin' of the guards
Beat b*tches over the head the caveman of the squad
And he barely fell victim cause they raised him up so hard
So my 9 is on my hip and my praise is up to god
Cause we in a battle field where the razors lead to scars
And the lazers lead to holes, slugs in n out ya clothes

[Chorus]
(Yea) Hey Yo p, f*ck these n*ggas man
Ill buck these n*ggas man, can't nobody else get no money
Cause this is our year, next year is our year
The year after is our year, the year after is our year
(Yea) G,G,G,G,G G-Unit

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