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[Chorus:] |
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Up in da club |
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(Where You chillin for the summer, homey?) |
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Up in da club |
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(Jump in the stretch, help me run it) |
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Up in da club |
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(Fly ladies from all the walls) |
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Up in da club |
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(With my beats I'm fadin all a y'all) |
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Up in da club |
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(Can a playa spend his double life) |
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Up in da club |
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(Before she shank me with a butter knife) |
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Up in da club |
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(Upper lover or lower life) |
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Up in da club |
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(Still the same when we go inside) |
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[Verse:] |
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If You lookin for a man with a bulge in his pants |
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Who really ain't trippin about a one night stand |
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I'll be that dude that'll leave you wishin |
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Who's floatin in ya love pot, strictly fishin |
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See, baby, lookin cute with a bathing sute |
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Pants like all in the a** without the zoom |
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I'm gangsta, baby don't you know we keep the heaters hot |
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Summertime, when we grind bumpin on yo block |
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In the club smokin trees, drinkin hennessey |
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Crack a scarp to the fullest is my strap, G |
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Ain't no need for gangsta deeds |
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Now put ya drinks in the air and throw a toast to me |
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Cause I'm off the red eye flight |
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Flyin for the ladies in the tights |
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Tell me what you like |
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Fast or slow? In my car or on dubs? |
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A straight ****in while we buckin, baby |
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[Chorus:] |
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[Verse 2:] |
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Now can't hang, got a space at the back of the club, low key |
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I did my thang in the car that's why I skip past the broad |
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Got my eyes on tight, I'm headed straight for a corner |
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Got my eyes on this freak with 10 suckas all upon her |
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The type that claim they fly and fresh |
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Yappin like hoes bout who got the best Rolex sweat |
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Drinchin all on my head and my shirt |
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It's time to shake my buzz, grab a skirt and go to work |
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Crack the dance floor wit me but don't hurt ya self |
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Nice at the summertime (Oh Yeah) |
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The tricks come to spend a lot |
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On these tricks off the knot |
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That's why they get with pockets ripped to they socks |
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Damn! These pretty hoes comin in flocks |
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Talkin about how many freaks I got |
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That's why, sometimes I go for a minute & shake the spot |
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It's either too damn crowded or hell-a-hot |
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[Chorus:] |
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[Verse 3:] |
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Yeah, ho is Dolce & Gabanna, ya mama |
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In the six rebel |
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Big face, she wanna know how my hit tastes |
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Yeah, I remember these freaks by face |
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Or they nipples or they cheeks to the belly chains on they waist |
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Most of y'all easin' knuckles, Cartier belt buckles |
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Lookin for a n***a to hustle |
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S**t, I'm the next multi-million dollar black man |
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For all y'all ain't grizzlin' n****s |
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Take shake the sound stand |
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Quik gotta beat that'll cost a hundred grand |
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Party from la, Terrio to Japan |
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If you in the sand, throw up, up ya hands |
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If you in the hood with the leather'n'wood |
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Let these hoes know 2-2-0 got the do-do |
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Find me on the net, dot com the text |
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Visa, Mastercard, American Express |
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[Chorus Till Fade] |
