Clap your hands to the beat, just clap your hands to the beat C'mon clap your hands to the beat, I said clap you hands to the beat Uh huh and you don't stop, uh-huh and you don't stop Uh huh and you don't stop, uh-huh and you don't stop
We in this Great Lakes state eatin' steaks n shrimp It's kinds hard to miss the crew cause' we all got limps We come equipped with new kicks and Stetsons The super saggy bags and the white trash connection No flexin', huh, know what I mean You can feel us fool, we don't need to be seen It's all about the green, not the drugs we be takin' That shits free with an LP in circulation, and we be wastin' time Got them all state, all county, all hood rhymes It's all good times, thank the lord For dumb fuckin' people and credit card fraud Were tearin' up your lawn, we got herds of Lincolns Step into your crib and have your whole house stinkin' Don't blink and don't think were soft Hide your money and your gold and don't express your thoughts We get mad props, wreck all shops Puttin' stops on crews they get confused and lose, that's what we do Styles tem from pioneers Leavin' suckers in awe you get jawed for lookin' queer Can you hear me or am I talkin to the wall That's Top Dog callin' out each and everyone of y'all You get balls you come and talk that shit But Top Dogs camp ain't nothing to fuck with and don't say we didn't warn ya I got this Detroit thing with more love than California Drunk DJ smokin' cognac dips Call me the sidekick thug boy kid with the limp I rip through rhymes like a bullet in the breeze And I float through tracks like a shark in the sea A we bit shy but I comply by me And I'm a mean motherfucker when I have to be Got young G's with sleeves and thieves on hold Strategically placed in case somebody feels bold, I told You ho's you can't fuck with these cuz I make more papers then trees See we believe in brotherhood forever is criteria You fuckin' with Top Dog your fuckin' with familia No I ain't feelin' ya, got all that I can do to hear Anytime you see me you should stand clear You see me in my Lincoln, in the clubs drinkin' Who you gonna check bitch, what the fuck you thinkin' You can check me but that shit don't slide You can get your life took tryin' to take my pride You ride with who? Man that shit ain't big I roll with dogs that'll rock your wig And got gigs all money, Detroit to Portland Cellular receivers and beepers is what were sportin' Your nothin' of importance, I don't sweat you Yeah the drinks on me but the jokes on you I'm all about the everyday nothin' at all See I'm not doin very much I'm just havin' a ball I'm in bed by four I'm up by noon I might sit around, I might write me a tune I might go fishin' and again I might not I might get me a 40 or pour me some scotch The watch on my wrist that don't even exist A lot of pissed people from appointments that I've missed I dissed everybody and their mom for spite Cuz everybody's barkin' but nobody ever bites Your talkin' loud, sayin' nothin' Get you dad, get your cousin Go and get your boy cuz he's as big as a house Now take your pussy ass click and get the fuck out I'm the estranged, deranged, got domains like states I live in plush hotels with them hourly rates I do big plates 8 times a day The crew be livin' large at the Seafood Bay Got a way with the world and now I'm lookin' to scramble Ain't about to ass out on a no good gamble I could handle anything but I ain't down for broke So before somebody slides somebody's getting' choked I'm a no good freak, I tweak skin like rashes I lose a little love with every day that passes Ain't a masochistic, rock, statistics, vocabulary I'm a very shy simplitic And get this, some people say I changed I'm the same mother fucker with the same old name A little extra game and extra cash see You could fuck me but don't put it past me You wanna bash me and got no reason I can lay up in the Caymans for 4 straight seasons I ain't a pnk, I refuse to be I live for what is not what used to be Your all up in the past that's ass Hear what I say I'm all about today and I'm a die that way... Bitch
Compositores: Robert J Ritchie (Kid Rock), Matthew L Shafer (Kracker) ECAD: Obra #4353062