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One, two, three straps inside my club house Four, Five, Six fuck around we at a club out Only niggas wear white tees inside my club house You can't be around if you ain’t never shut the club down Bitch I be with, all them niggas who really with that Catch a body, that's my body, ain't gotta split that Bust his brains, we’ll give a nigga a shit bag My ex be tryna' talk, I tell her oh we playin' tic-tac-toe She got a thing for them shooters know we on go Like seven, eight, nine of these niggas are off the scope That be ten, eleven, twelve Give me thirteen reasons he shouldn't go to hell Pardon my step, but I give on it New ice, I can change the climate I know storms in Chicago New car hit the road no mileage Every time we pop out in they section, like you cocky Bitch I heard what you said, ain't got to ask me if I copy They know all this shit get rocky, like balboa Bitch I never danced, I do my jig out to the floor Don't ask me if I'm fuckin' with that hoe you know she tore up They say my city been waiting for a nigga like me to blow up I tell her to grow up You go up, we go up My whole life projectile, like it’s throw up SongtexteDon’t tell me what you gon' do nigga you must not know us You can play the base lil nigga that wasn’t for us One, two, three straps inside my club house Four, Five, Six fuck around we at a club out Only niggas wear white tees inside my club house You can't be around if you ain't never shut the club down Bitch I be with, all them niggas who really with that Catch a body, that's my body, ain’t gotta split that Bust his brains, we'll give a nigga a shit bag My ex be tryna' talk, I tell her oh we playin' tic-tac-toe She got a thing for them shooters know we on go Like seven, eight, nine of these niggas are off the scope That be ten, eleven, twelve Give me thirteen reasons he shouldn't go to hell You can call yo top shoota' We'll spin a block shoot em' Ian never shot a cop, but bitch I be with cop shootas My lil homie off the grid, he popped the lid and talked to em' His mama been beggin' me to call his phone and talk to him Call like yesterday, keep a cold like yesterday I wasn't even gon' fuck on that hoe, but I told her yes today Finger fuck the trigger, bitch I had a lil sex today Ian tryna be boo'd up, bitch I ain't Ella Mai Cold storm, move Frita ARP, new heater My brother, my brother, poured a walk inside a two meter Imma come around, bitch I gotta cop some new beaters They say I'm hot cause a nigga ride round with two heaters One, two, three straps inside my club house Four, Five, Six fuck around we at a club out Only niggas wear white tees inside my club house You can't be around if you ain't never shut the club down Bitch I be with, all them niggas who really with that Catch a body, that's my body, ain't gotta split that Bust his brains, we'll give a nigga a shit bag My ex be tryna' talk, I tell her oh we playin' tic-tac-toe She got a thing for them shooters know we on go Like seven, eight, nine of these niggas are off the scope That be ten, eleven, twelve Give me thirteen reasons he shouldn't go to hell Aus Songtexte Mania