Clap Back lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, yeah
Haha, yeah
I gotta get my headphones, Buck
All my gangsta n*ggas is in the building on this one, you know
Yeah, here we go, it's real
Hussein what's happenin', n*gga? I see you
Aight, Shadoe what's poppin'? Blat! Haha, yeah
My n*gga O-1 in the motherf*cking house (O-1)
Jody in the house (Jody Mack)
My n*gga Cadillac, Gotti what up?
Black Child, what up?
I'd like to welcome all my n*ggas
To the world famous Murda Inc. Show
Big shout to all my Queens n*ggas, all my Staten Island n*ggas
All my Uptown n*ggas, all my Brooklyn n*ggas
All my Bronx n*ggas, yeah, all my Jersey n*ggas, you know?
We doing it real big right here (All my money n*ggas)
This sh*t commentated on the ones and twos
They call me the Mighty Rule, how ya living?
This real sh*t we talking
I wanna ask all my gangsta n*ggas a real question (Holla back)
What do you do when n*ggas spit at you?

[Chorus]
Clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
[Verse 1]
f*ck what they hollerin' about Rule, n*gga, here's the real
I'll pop ya top like champagne bottles to chill
With nuttin' but ice, now I'll send it up to the greatest
To tell 'em I'm nice too, plus push some nice coupes
The Inc. roll like deuce, man, I'm OG Bobby J
And we slingin' soccer fields of yay
They don't respect that, or get ya mind around and
Get it pushed back, y'all don't want that
I send 'em to the morgue while keepin' my b*tches bouncin' for sure
In the club wit no gun, got 'em takin' it off
Can't help that, I'm the n*gga that puts it down
Once I hit that, that's it, I'm up in the mind, maxin' them
Holdin' the throwback, West, 44, Lakers
Let's make no mistakes when these F's take place
What's the procedure wit a gun in your face when you got one in your waist?
Let's c*ck back, n*gga, air out the space (Come on), we gon'

[Chorus]
Clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
[Verse 2]
Who be in the cub, Rule muhf*cker poppin' the bubbly
When sh*t get ugly, I hug the snub closely,
But usually used to see your b*tches
Dancin' on some freak sh*t, tryna ride my di*k
I can handle it long as they manage
To get they ass in front of my di*k and dance to Big's One More Chance
I'm catchin' hate from a glance, but I'm a giant
These n*ggas is mere ants, I'll stomp out 'em wit a shank
Give b*tches the back hand, this pimp sh*t, is not realistic
The game is helpless, let's not get it twisted
I'm young, black, and gifted, but still at the bottom
And stuck somewhere between Gomorrah and Sodom
I'm here to make this rap sh*t hotter than Harlem
f*ck the dog, beware of Rule 'cause I'm the problem,
What's the procedure wit a gun in your face when you got one in your waist?
Let's c*ck back, n*gga, air out the space (Come on), we gon'

[Chorus]
Clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
[Verse 3]
Let's take 'em to war, n*gga, like Bush and Saddam, I'ma find out where Em Laden's hidin' and bomb first
It could be much worse, I could be hotter than your scrubs
Mask and gloves, gun hot to burn that ass up
I'd rather be bossed up wit a bunch of broads
The preacher's daughter screamin' out, "f*ck the Lord!"
I may have struck a chord with the Christians
But y'all got the freakiest b*tches out of all the religions
And God gave me his blessin' to handle my business
On these wanksta, snitches, let the nina blow kisses
If she some how misses, he gon' meet the mistress
And clap that boy like Birdman and Clipse
I got these n*ggas all over my di*k like hoes
I'm the star a the shows, I must be as hot as they come
What's the procedure with a gun in your face when you got one in your waist?
Let's c*ck back, n*gga, air out the space (C'mon), we gon'

[Chorus]
Clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, n*ggas)

[Outro]
Yeah, my n*gga Zino in this motherf*cker (That's how we do it, know what I mean?)
Buck '89, what's up, baby? I see you (Bust it down, n*gga, break 'em down)
Bringin' birds in the motherf*cking house
It's not a game no more (Queens in this motherf*cker)
You know, all my Jersey n*ggas (All my Boston n*ggas)
All my Brooklyn n*ggas, Brooklyn, sir, what up?
Haha, yeah, holla at me, man