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f/ Allure, Bambue, Funkmaster Flex, Method Man, Silkk theShockerYaknawimean? It's gettin' ready to happenWe bout to black out, Funkmaster FlexFull Force, what you know about it, baby?Bout to give you what you need, what you want, understand itStrictly blast off material is what we dealin' wit here, youheard?Let's go...Put your hands in the air, cuz I'm about to blastBambue bout to set if off on your assBring it on, what, the way I do thisAin't nothin' to this, raps run through thisSteppin' up the game now, run wit Full ForceDon't have to rock no jewels, and I still flossCoachin' French style, I spit, blaze it outTricks skip it out, what you talk, we live it outLove up in the club and I post the French toastShades of French braids, back is exposedThe don diva got you twistin' they clothesFuck wit Cola bottle type body like 'whoa'We let ballers get me cock-eyed, cuz I print out when welock eyeNot shy, the skirt cut high, the style flySongtexteC-notes in the brassiere, by the tata's, you brokeFloat nigga, bye-byeIt's gettin' kinda hot in the club tonightDance, drink all night, mess around, spend about a dubtonightCuz I like, the girls that live in the club (It's on firetonight)Dance, gettin' tight, mess around take some home tonightCuz I like, the girls that live in the club, they just{Float on, float on, float on, float on (keep it bouncin',get it movin){Float on, float on, baby, float onYeah, I like the chick to be, lick it upIt's easy up for me, pick 'em upTake 'em floor, sweat 'em upAnd welcome to the bar, wet 'em upLet's get set, yo, grab the honeys and let's go, do a 59 inthe 'EscoCuz on cell phones, two-ways, ballers are down, yoIt's just a sign of the times, yoN-O-L-I-M-I-T, try to step in this mutha, like, yea, that'smeYou know, all up in the club on dubs, wit the tank onParty club, half on love, get your drink onSee somethin' you like, g, get up outta hereIt's bout to get hot, so look, sit up by the fanWhen I come through, make her forget about a planShe got a dude? Make her forget about her manLook, you want it, but you ain't really gotta frontBesides run the streets, and then you tried me onceAnd ma, you ain't know got a triple x about cashI'm P little brother, you look smart, so do the mathFull Force in here, gotta holla at FlexSome say I'm spring bout it, cuz I'm private deckBut they don't stop up in here, you ain't bout it, you gotup in hereIt's bout to get hot, yo, you got up in here?All the mami's in the spot, pick 'em upMake the booty hot, sweat 'em upFunk passion on the rocks, lick it upDancin' til I drop, wet 'em upDon't wanna dance, then I'mma have to ask one of yourfriends, soThen I take 'em home in my Benz-oFree screens, DVD's, twenty inch Lorenzo'sIt don't make no sense, yoYo, every hour on the hour, "chill" like Rob G.Then he snap wit the power, the hungry M.C.I be by this couch, niggas ain't blowers you flowerEat bullets and shit gun powderFound you, reachin' for that chrome in your trousersSupply the, get up on that left, turn an hourHurt me, firstly I put you on the ducks where the dirt bePersonally I just don't give a whatHave mercy, RZA beat's bump like herpiesAnd Meth run this track like Jackie Joyner-KerseeClub hoppin', in the apple, where it's rottenI'm bird watchin', trynna get in mami's stockingsFunkmaster Flex, it's about to get ugly, and God don't likeuglyHoneys permed out, lookin' young, dark and lovely, pass methe bubblyI come wit Full Force, you can find us where the club beIf you don't give a, like we don't give aThrow your hands up, if you live in the clubIs it real, son? Is it really real, son?Let me know it's real, son, if it's really realSomethin' I can feel, son, loaded up and killed oneWanted raw deal, son, if it's really realAiyo, we come in Full ForceGot my girl Bambue, and Funkmaster FlexOne love to Lou Star, he's a live muthafuckaAight, and that's the way it goes downFunkmaster Flex and Full ForceThis is it, let it happen, one Aus Songtexte Mania