Lyrics:
these
2014, True Religions, belt double G's
So much ice on my neck
The bitches in the club gon' freeze
All the shit I seen up in
My life'll make your
going overload
Ain't no way i'm giving up
If i'm slacking
Ain't no littering
Ima pick it up
Ain't no way that we can be Alike
Nigga
Cause i don't get
whoever got cheddar to pay
Ball like no trick ass, them shakers if I tip
I be drunk, in the club, smokin sticky cat nip
Slip, as if a banana peel was
It's your boi JhUmble
Yeah
And you know we don't Fumble
Yeah
Make the club fucking rumble
Yeah Yeah uh Huh
Ride out wit me Ride out wit me Ride out wit
or da party
You already know how we do it
Bucket full of ice
And the bottle skin chilled
Hit it from the back when you looking like dat
Bikini waxed sex
I like the way the light hit the ice and glare
And I can see you, boo, from way over there
If you want to go and take a ride with me
We
idol
Chicks from every nationality, showin' hospitality
Listen, check my rendition
Grabbin' me, showin' mad love in the club
Performed for royalty
up, treat a hoe like a man
You thought I was feelin' you, bitch, I was playin
We let like a hundred, some shots out a van
My auntie be thuggin', shout
a star
The bitch right there need her for now
I might just zip up all the za
I think she smell me from the club
She might just hop up in the car
Yeah, she
Fuck a platinum plaque, gimme money, where the dollars at
(Blap, blap) We dare them to stack it for 10 G's
(Where you from?) Black Haven is where I be
comin' for?
We already knew that I'm more than you bargained for
This the last time I'ma pass by
Leave you hanging to dry my fav past time
You not
Shyheim (New York, New York) You did the kid
That's how we gon' do it, we gon' this real clever
From the Staten Island connection, oh
[Chorus: Shyheim]
the game winner, man my veins hacé frío
Ice up in my veins, man I feel just like im D Lo
Roll up with the guys in the 3's, thats a trio
Got her from
muthafucka were you at
Dippin' on swayze wit my niggas from tha set
The blunt went out but we ain't done yet
Get another one blaze
Bitch get paid
Wait for that
directly next to me
I'm rocking khakis
Like Jake from State Farm
At the North Italia
For drinks and chicken parm
Uh-huh
10:30 closing time at the club
Uh-huh
not the don clockin on high stacks (cash)
By the night pulling the thots up high in the club got shots like neistat (flash)
Haters on me stuck like glue
Ima Need For All The Broke Niggas And All The Broke Bitches To Leave The Club Right Now
Loud Pack Nigga
If You Bout Yo Money And Keep To Yo Motha
plaything
Don’t wanna stop this love we’re making
Scratches down my back and hickies up yours
Fuck from shower, counter, bed, and now floor
Oh who goes there,
really out here! (We really out here, yeah yeah yeah!)
Uh, and it might not be such a bad idea if I never went home again
Fuck the same hoes again,
it's so hard to face defeat (Dig)
Didn't know you was feeling that way inside
I thought that I could be one you lean on
Every single second goes by
God,
feelings hurt
im in a range selling cane they think i came from church
my phone was jumping like the club before i bought some ice
i was paying thirty racks
in a crib full of sex toys
Got the walls padded from the back to the front
So me and baby girl can get as loud as we want
Said I love you so much you
dogs is feelin' hungry, that's why we gettin' fed
Believe it, I run this, you cannot be by me
And don't even bump this if ya not V.I.P., woo
nigga Timb on the hot track
How you gon' stop that? We can't be slowed
Niggaz throwed dawg, look at your clothes
When I'm in crazy mode, three-eighty
Discuss these we be clubbin from the players club by ice cube Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In