(Intro: Yamine)
Yo. yo. yo. yo. yo. yo. yo. yo. yo. yo..yo.yo.yo.yo.yo.yo
Let's go!!!
[Hook: Yamine]
Keep it up, keep it up
Keep it up, (yeah bro)
We turning up, we turning up
We turning up, (yeah bro)
Keep it up, keep it up
Keep it up, (yeah bro)
I don't give fuck because I'm in the club (yeah bro)
You know me, you know me
You know me
Cuz I'm in the club (yeah bro)
You know me, you know me
You know me
Cuz I'm in the club (yeah bro)
Drinking codiene
Drinking codiene
Drinking codiene
Cuz I'm in the club (yeah bro)
Ballin like Ginobli
Ballin like Ginobli
Cuz I don't give a fuck (yeah bro)
[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]
I ain't tryin' to bring New York back
I'm just a breath of fresh air, that good old New York rap
Slick talk to the track, c'mon, who brought that to the game?
Graffiti all on the train, get up your name
I don't feel how I used to feel
I'm in my 20's so a new Nas joint used to give me the chills
In the barber shop tryin' to cop a new hot tape
Them Rob lowes is crazy, the doo wop's great
It's hip hop… and yes, I'm a fan first
If you from the south, finger snap till your hands hurt
If you from the west, W's in the air
If you from the East Coast, act like you from here
The good old two-step, the classic head nod
The thirsty iced grill, who wants to get robbed?
That was the energy in the club
On the real, that was the energy that I loved
[Verse 2: Juicy J]
VIP is where you find me at
Higher than the seas on my private jet
4 door lambo, I’m buying that
I’m mad cause them bitches ain’t designed it yet
I’m smoking on loud, tell 'em bitches be quiet
If a n***a keep hating, he gon' make me start a riot
Could have bought a house but I spent it on a ride
And if I get any higher, I’ma really start flying
Tell me what you know about that Taylor Gang shit
We be poppin champagne just to pour it on a bitch
Leave the club with a girl I ain’t never gon' forget
She slop on my knob, but she don’t spit
[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]
Tonight I can't sleep, we livin' in Hell
First they give us the work, then they throw us in jail
Road-trip ya, I'm trafficin' in the white
Please Lord, don't let me go to jail tonight
Who me? I'm a soul survivor
Ask about 'em in the street, the boy Jeez a rider
A hundred grand on my wrist, yeah, life sucks
Fuck the club, dawg, I rather count a million bucks
[Verse 4: T.I.]
Ever had one of them days wish you woulda stayed home
Run into a group of n***as who gettin' they hate on?
You walk by, they get wrong; you reply, then shit get blown
Way outta proportion, way past discussion
Just you against them, pick one then rush him
Figure you get jumped, hell, that's nothin'
They don't wanna stop there, now they bustin'
Now you gushin', ambulance rushin'
You to the hospital with a bad concussion
Plus you hit four times, plus it hit yo' spine
Paralyzed waist down, now you're wheelchair bound
Nevermind that now, you lucky to be alive
Just think it all started you fussin' with three guys
Now your pride in the way, but your pride is the way
You could fuck around, get shot, die any day
N***as die everyday, all over bullshit
Dope money, dice game, ordinary hood shit
Could this be ‘cause of hip hop music?
Or did the ones with the good sense not use it?
Usually n***as don't know what to do when
Their back against the wall, so they just start shootin'
[Verse 5: Lil Wayne]
Bitch better have my money
Don’t test me muthafucker I study
And wifey keep tellin’ me the pills gon kill me
Fucking up my sperm count and she want children
Back on my bullshit, I’m back on my bullshit
I’m a dead man walking, follow my footprints
Scared, go to Church, I shoot at the pulpit
{Verse 6: 21 Savage]
I sit back and read like Cat in the Hat
21 Savage, the cat with the MAC
21 Savage not Boyz N The Hood
But I pull up on you, shoot your ass in the back
Stuart Little, heard these n***as some rats
Pockets full of cheese, bitch I got racks
I'm a real street n***a, bitch
I am not one of these n***as bangin' on wax
Pussy n***as love sneak dissin'
'Til I pull up on 'em, slap 'em out with the fire
Wet your mama's house, wet your grandma's house
Keep shootin' until somebody die
So many shots the neighbor looked at the calendar
Thought it was Fourth of July
You was with your friends playin' Nintendo
I was playin' 'round with that fire
Seventh grade I got caught with a pistol, sent me to Panthersville
Eighth grade started playin' football
Then I was like fuck the field
Ninth grade I was knocking n***as out
N***a like Holyfield
Fast forward n***a, 2016
And I'm screaming fuck a deal
Bad bitch with me, she so thick
I don't even need a pill
I listen to your raps, thought you was hard
You ain't even street for real
N***as love sneak dissin' on Twitter
They don't want beef for real
And all these n***as play like they tough
'Til a n***a get killed
'Til a n***a get spilled, 'til your blood get spilled
I'ma at your favorite rapper, shoot him like I'm John Dill'
"I been with you since day one
Savage I ain't even hatin'"
So what's up with all that Instagram shit?
"Savage I was just playin'"
Y'all pussy n***as fakin'
Bitch I hang around them Haitians
Pull up on you, tie your kids up
Pistol whip you while your bitch naked
"Come on man, Savage you know I always play your mixtape"
Yeah, n***a fuck all that, ask your bitch how my dick tastes
[Verse 7: Drake]
My actions been louder than my words, n***a
How you so high, but still so down to Earth, n***a
If n***as wanna do it, we can do it on they turf, n***a
Oh Lord, I'm the rookie and the vet
Shoutout to the bitches out here holdin' down the set
All up in my phone, lookin' at pictures from the other night
She gon' be upset if she keep scrollin' to the left, dawg
She gon' see some shit that she don't wanna see
She ain't ready for it
If I ain't the greatest then I'm headed for it
That mean I'm way up (way up)
The 6 ain't friendly but that's where I lay up
This shit a mothafuckin' lay up
I been Steph Curry with the shot
Been cookin' with the sauce, Chef Curry with the pot, boy
360 with the wrist, boy
Who the fuck them n***as is, boy?
OVO, man we really with the shits, boy
Yeah, really with the shits
I should prolly sign to Hit-Boy 'cause I got all the hits, boy
Fuck all that "Drake you gotta chill" shit
I be on my Lil Mouse drill shit
Fuck all that rap-to-pay-your-bill shit
I'm on some Raptors-pay-my-bills shit
All up on TV, I thought it'd make me richer
Wasn't payin' me enough, I needed somethin' quicker
So now I'm all in Niko's basement puttin' work in on the phones
Either that or drive to Money Mart to make the pickupsMy actions been louder than my words, n***a
How you so high, but still so down to Earth, n***a
If n***as wanna do it, we can do it on they turf, n***a
Oh Lord, I'm the rookie and the vet
Shoutout to the bitches out here holdin' down the set
All up in my phone, lookin' at pictures from the other night
She gon' be upset if she keep scrollin' to the left, dawg
She gon' see some shit that she don't wanna see
She ain't ready for it
If I ain't the greatest then I'm headed for it
That mean I'm way up (way up)
The 6 ain't friendly but that's where I lay up
This shit a mothafuckin' lay up
I been Steph Curry with the shot
Been cookin' with the sauce, Chef Curry with the pot, boy
360 with the wrist, boy
Who the fuck them n***as is, boy?
OVO, man we really with the shits, boy
Yeah, really with the shits
I should prolly sign to Hit-Boy 'cause I got all the hits, boy
Fuck all that "Drake you gotta chill" shit
I be on my Lil Mouse drill shit
Fuck all that rap-to-pay-your-bill shit
I'm on some Raptors-pay-my-bills shit
All up on TV, I thought it'd make me richer
Wasn't payin' me enough, I needed somethin' quicker
So now I'm all in Niko's basement puttin' work in on the phones
Either that or drive to Money Mart to make the pickups
