Ja Rule - Clap Back [prod. by Scott Storch & Irv Gotti] | Текст песни

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• Ja Rule
• Clap Back [prod. by Scott Storch & Irv Gotti]

[Intro - Ja Rule]
Yeah, yeah.. haha yeah!
I gotta get my headphones
All my gangsta niggas is in the building on this one!
You know! Yeah yeah ya know
It's real!! Hussein what's happ'nin nigga?
I see you, aight Shadow what's poppin BLAT!
Haha haha, yeah my nigga O-1 in the motherfucking house
Jody in the house (Jody Mack!)
My nigga Cadillac, Gotti what up!
Blackchild what up!
I'd like to welcome all my niggas
To the world famous Murda Inc. Show
Big shout to all my Queens niggas in Staten Island
Niggas in Uptown, niggas in Brooklyn niggas
All my Bronx niggas yeah, all my Jersey niggas! you know?
We doing it real big right here! all my money niggas
This shit commentated on the one's and two's!
They call me the Mighty Rule! how ya living?
This real shit we talking
I wanna ask all my gangsta niggas a real question (holla back)
What do you do - when niggas spit at you?

[Chorus - Ja Rule]
Clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggas!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggas!)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

[Verse 1 - Ja Rule]
Fuck if they holl'in about Rule nigga, here's the real
I'll pop ya top like Champagne bottles that chill
Wear nothing but ice, smiles tinted up to The Greatest
Tell em I'm nice too, plus push them nice coupes
The Inc roll like duece man, I'm ol' G Bobby J
And we slinging soccer fields of yay
They don't respect that, don't get your mind around
You'll get it pushed back, y'all don't want that
I send em to the morgue while keepin my bitches bouncin fa sho
In Da Club with no gun, got em taking it off
Can't help that, I'm the nigga that puts it down
Once I hit that, that's if I'm up in the Maybach
Fasten them holding the throwback, West 44 Lakers
Let's make no mistakes when these F's take place
We'll still proceed you with a gun in your face
When you got one in your waist, let's cock back nigga air out the space!
(C'mon!) We gon'

[Chorus]

[Verse 2 - Ja Rule]
The Rule be In Da Club rude motherfucker poppin the bubbly
When shit get ugly I hug the snub closely
But usually we still see your bitches
Dancin on some freak shit, trying to ride my dick
I can't handle it, lower their manners
To get they ass infront of my dick to dance, to B.I.G.'s One More Chance
Catching hate from a glance, but I'm a giant
These niggas is mere ants, I'll stomp 'em wit a shank
Give bitches the back hand, pimp shit, it's not realistic
The game is helpless, let's not get it twisted
I'm young, wrapped, and gifted, but still at the bottom
And stuck somewhere between Gomorrah and Saddam
I'm here to make this rap shit hotter than Harlem
Fuck the Dog beware of Rule, cause I'm the problem
We'll still proceed you with a gun in your face
When you got one in your waist, let's cock back nigga air out the space!
(C'mon!) We gon'

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Ja Rule]
Like Bush and Saddam, I'm a find out
Where Em Laden's hiding and bomb him first
It could be much worse, I could be hotter than yo scrubs
Mask and glove, gun hot from burnin ass up
I'd rather be bossed up, wit a bunch of broads
The preachers daughter screaming out Fuck the law!
I may have struck a chord, wit the Christians
But y'all got the freakiest

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