Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Fat Joe
Fat Joe
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Joseph Cartagena
Joseph Cartagena
Songwriter
Ryan Bowser
Ryan Bowser
Songwriter
R. Kelly
R. Kelly
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Paul Gregory
Paul Gregory
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Supa Engineer DURO
Supa Engineer DURO
Mixing Engineer
Ron G
Ron G
Producer

Lyrics

(Ooh, mmm) Yea, uh, uh (Fat Joe and the R) That shit y'all (Breakin' shit down) Shake that, funky, funky, funky (Yeah) Sticky, icky, icky, yeah uh I got that shit y'all I got that shit y'all, uh yo yo Crackman and I'm at it again Niggas had they run, now it's time for change When we step in the club, nigga tuck ya chain Got the mink on, same color the range Uh, pour liquor for my nigga that's gone Big Pun, then we party like we just came home Fuck a bitch if she act to grown I don't need that shit, I got my wife at home Uh, words slurrin', dirty urine Drunk off of Henny and the 'jo keep burnin' Dancin' with shorty and her friend keep flirtin' I don't always crush two but tonight seems certain Party hard like 'fuck all y'all' Bottles in the air like we stuck up the bar Terror Squad man you know who we are Cruise through ya block and them drop-top Bentley Azures Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs And off up in the club, whylin' like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, mami don't stop Throwin' up six o'clock, plus I got four hun-nies in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full with hunnies, panties with no tops We take a puff of 'dro and be aight Yea uh, yea yea yo Everybody wanna know where the crib's at Niggas just now gettin' ice, so we get that Mami starin' at me like she wanna get kidnapped Money lookin' happy with his wife but we triz that Along with Lisa, Aisha, Shonda, Renee Even ran through the dorms down in Morgan State In Miami, pool party off the chain Gettin' brains in the water on memorial day Uh, grand-mami all cool and shit It's ya birthday, show me what I'm foolin' with Like no doubt, pokin' doll out, pull ya g-string down south Oww, pass that, give shorty a shot True enough we gon' see if she naughty or not I'm on E feelin' ready and hot I give 'em twenty a pop, leave the panties atop Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs And off up in the club, whylin' like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, mami don't stop Throwin' up six o'clock, plus I got four hun-nies in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full with hunnies, panties with no tops We take a puff of 'dro and be aight Fat Joe, R. Kelly we proper Yeah, Terror Squad, Rockland, what the fuck? What? Fat Joe, R. Kelly we proper Uh, uh, Rockland, Terror Squad, what the fuck? What? Some of these kids is doin' they own thing But none of these kids stack chips like us Some of these cats is doin' they own thing But none of these cats run tricks like us Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs And off up in the club, whylin' like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, mami don't stop Throwin' up six o'clock, plus I got four hun-nies in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full with hunnies, panties with no tops We take a puff of 'dro and be aight Haha, yeah, uh You know what this is Chi-town, BX What the fuck what? Out
Writer(s): Robert S. Kelly, Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Ronald Bowser Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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