Clap Back

Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah, yeah Haha, yeah I gotta get my headphones, Buck All my gangsta niggas is in the building on this one, you know Yeah, here we go, it's real Hussein what's happenin', nigga? I see you Aight, Shadoe what's poppin'? Blat! Haha, yeah My nigga O-1 in the motherfucking house (O-1) Jody in the house (Jody Mack) My nigga Cadillac, Gotti what up? Black Child, what up? I'd like to welcome all my niggas To the world famous Murda Inc. Show Big shout to all my Queens niggas, all my Staten Island niggas All my Uptown niggas, all my Brooklyn niggas All my Bronx niggas, yeah, all my Jersey niggas, you know? We doing it real big right here (All my money niggas) This shit commentated on the ones and twos They call me the Mighty Rule, how ya living? This real shit we talking I wanna ask all my gangsta niggas a real question (Holla back) What do you do when niggas spit at you? [Chorus] Clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) [Verse 1] Fuck what they hollerin' about Rule, nigga, 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 bitches bouncin' for sure In the club wit no gun, got 'em takin' it off Can't help that, I'm the nigga 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 cock back, nigga, 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, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) [Verse 2] Who be in the cub, Rule muhfucker poppin' the bubbly When shit get ugly, I hug the snub closely But usually used to see your bitches Dancin' on some freak shit, tryna ride my dick I can handle it long as they manage To get they ass in front of my dick and dance to Big's One More Chance I'm catchin' hate from a glance, but I'm a giant These niggas is mere ants, I'll stomp out 'em wit a shank Give bitches the back hand, this pimp shit, 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 shit hotter than Harlem Fuck 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 cock back, nigga, 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, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) [Verse 3] Let's take 'em to war, nigga, 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, "Fuck the Lord!" I may have struck a chord with the Christians But y'all got the freakiest bitches 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 niggas all over my dick 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 cock back, nigga, 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, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back (Let's take 'em to war, niggas) [Outro] Yeah, my nigga Zino in this motherfucker (That's how we do it, know what I mean?) Buck '89, what's up, baby? I see you (Bust it down, nigga, break 'em down) Bringin' birds in the motherfucking house It's not a game no more (Queens in this motherfucker) You know, all my Jersey niggas (All my Boston niggas) All my Brooklyn niggas, Brooklyn Sun, what up? Haha, yeah, holla at me, man