Yung Emkay - Clappin'

Yeah, yeah foty, foty, foty
Finesser of the year, lil bitch
Finesser of the year, lil bitch yeah, bitch

I'm on the block, you know I keep a ratchet
You don't want war, I take your shit
We snatching
Gucci all on me, dripping when I'm stepping
I'm with gang so we can get the clapping
Ran up a sack, you do know it happen
Two forty seven be the life I'm repping
Niggas be phony, yeah, they really capping
My niggas really slangin', yeah, we trapping

Couple thotties in my bed right now
You ain't got cash, pussy boy, pipe down
I just took your bitch, you wondering how
Money hungry, bitch, I need it right now
If she ain't fucking get the
Fuck out my house
Water on me and you thought it's a drought
Sipping codeine, fuck you talking about?
OG gas on me came straight from the South
That ho talk too much
Put my dick in her mouth
I stay on the streets, bitch
I don't need your clout
I'm on the stage pouring lean in the crowd
I'm a finesser, I need large amounts
I just pulled up with a bad bitch
Yeah, my niggas, we is savage
I might shoot a nigga up in traffic
Just hit a nigga with the address

I'm on the block, you know I keep a ratchet
You don't want war, I take your shit
We snatching
Gucci all on me, dripping when I'm stepping
I'm with gang so we can get the clapping
Ran up a sack, you do know it happen
Two forty seven be the life I'm repping
Niggas be phony, yeah, they really capping
My niggas really slangin', yeah, we trapping

(Yeah! Yeah) wipe your nose (Slatt)
Just like clean niggas (Dig)
Fucking on your ho (Yeah)
And I mean it (Let's go)
Chopper hold that beam yeah, yeah
Beaming shit (Yeah) baby gon' pop that bean
She know I'm on that lean, lil bitch (Yeah)
Use your lips (Woah)
Come suck this dick (Suck this dick)
40 on the hip (40 on the hip)
Boy, you better get help
(Boy, you better get help)
No racks (Boy, no racks)
Your ass gets skipped (Your ass gets skipped)
Racks on my neck (Racks on my neck)
Ice chandelier (Ice chandelier)
Thumbing through it
Diamonds real water hitting in the neck
With a big TEC, leave you out to rest
With a big TEC, leave you out to death
(Yeah! Yeah)
Got shit like masses plenty (Huh)
With a Pyrex pot in that kitchen
(That kitchen)
And I'm serving all these lil niggas

I'm on the block, you know I keep a ratchet
You don't want war, I take your shit
We snatching
Gucci all on me, dripping when I'm stepping
I'm with gang so we can get the clapping
Ran up a sack, you do know it happen
Two forty seven be the life I'm repping
Niggas be phony, yeah, they really capping
My niggas really slangin', yeah, we trapping

I got codeine in my system
She complain but I won't listen
Send two shots, bitch, I ain't missing
Yung Emkay, I bring the wisdom
Sipping drank and you can't get none
Give no fuck 'bout where you came from
Claim you got hoes but can't name one
I fuck hoes but I won't save 'em
I get the cash, bitch (Ayy, yeah)
I just caught a fuckin' body
Wrap it up in plastic (Ayy, yeah)
Mama cryin', daddy cryin', yeah
I know it's tragic (Ayy, yeah)
Spend the money, get it back
Pockets gymnastic
Yeah, my niggas living lavish

I'm on the block, you know I keep a ratchet
You don't want war, I take your shit
We snatching
Gucci all on me, dripping when I'm stepping
I'm with gang so we can get the clapping
Ran up a sack, you do know it happen
Two forty seven be the life I'm repping
Niggas be phony, yeah, they really capping
My niggas really slangin', yeah, we trapping
I'm on the block, you know I keep a ratchet
You don't want war, I take your shit
We snatching
Gucci all on me, dripping when I'm stepping
I'm with gang so we can get the clapping
Ran up a sack, you do know it happen
Two forty seven be the life I'm repping
Niggas be phony, yeah, they really capping
My niggas really slangin', yeah, we trapping

Written by:
TROY LANE, UNKNOWN WRITER

Publisher:
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, JN MEDIA MUSIC PUBLISHING

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