Lloyd Banks Lyrics

Overview / Lyrics (see all) / Photos / Videos / News

Get Clapped Lyrics

from Rotten Apple

"Get Clapped" is track #10 on the album Rotten Apple. It was written by Cain, Khari / Lloyd, Christopher Charles / Johnson, Albert.
Edit
"Get Clapped" is track #10 on the album Rotten Apple. It was written by Cain, Khari / Lloyd, Christopher Charles / Johnson, Albert.
For Example...
What chart rank did the song debut? What is the song about? Has it won any awards?, etc.
Cancel Submit
Thank You For Your Submission
Your introduction will appear once it has been deemed awesome by our team of wizards.
  • Play Video
  • Correct
  • Print

Get Clapped Submit Correct Lyrics

Submit Corrections Cancel

Front on me and get clapped
Front on him and get clapped
Front on us and get clapped
You get clapped n****

Front on me and get clapped
Front on him and get clapped
Front on us and get clapped
Get clapped, get clapped

I know this feel different 'cause everything is good
They actin' like I changed, like I went Hollywood
Like I don't keep it street, like I ain't got the heat
Like I ain't homicide all over the beat

Like I ain't for the beef, like I don't really care
'Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it anywhere
There's diamonds in my chain, there's diamonds in my ear
A n**** come slippin' I'll make him disappear

Ay n**** f*** all the slick talk, get bread instead
Stay low strapped up metal on inf red
Too smooth, won't slip, new jewels, don't trip
Been around the world twice jet, lear, boat, whip

Oh s***, I'm hella rowdy and I'm nothin' nice
Money ain't s*** but a number name ya f***in' price
D*** rider, coat Taylor, a** kisser, sucker for love
Type to pick up the glass slipper

Look around a** n**** before you add liquor
'Cause bein' an ad-libber he'll be in a bag with ya
I'm seein' a bad picture of bein' a cab skipper
Broke as f*** waitin' for Satan to come and get ya

Keep ya clique tight, know ya goals
Don't speed, slow ya role, don't speak, learn the codes
For they pop ya a** barbecue ya body with beans
Outta the shoty while I'm in the Maserati
With somethin' that's gonna swallow me

I know this feel different 'cause everything is good
They actin' like I changed, like I went Hollywood
Like I don't keep it street, like I ain't got the heat
Like I ain't homicide all over the beat

Like I ain't for the beef, like I don't really care
'Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it anywhere
There's diamonds in my chain, there's diamonds in my ear
A n**** come slippin' I'll make him disappear

My trigger finger feenin' that n**** P is a demon
N**** my fangs start showin' if I'm seein' you dreamin'
Get too close and I'm ****** it won't be no discussion
I'ma boss, I don't speak, I just nod my head

And you turn up missin' with ya own page in the feds
I got power and I will flex on you real quick
Call ya dawgs, call ya trick, hug ya momz for you split
'Cause you ain't never gone see that b**** again

And this ain't a war n**** we just havin' fun with ya
Like a bed with a baby, if I smack ya I might **** ya
Half a million in diamonds, half a billion from rhymin'
And I'm steady and climbin' that means I'm still growin' up

Got you burned while you lookin', see my Ferrari in Brooklyn
On the corner of murda and duke, so come through
I'll light ya buildin' on fire that's why these rappers retire
'Cause they tired of dealin' with the n****z like me

I know this feel different 'cause everything is good
They actin' like I changed, like I went Hollywood
Like I don't keep it street, like I ain't got the heat
Like I ain't homicide all over the beat

Like I ain't for the beef, like I don't really care
'Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it anywhere
There's diamonds in my chain, there's diamonds in my ear
A n**** come slippin' I'll make him disappear

Now enough with all the lame s*** and wrestlin' games, kid
I need the rocks to fill the rest of the chain with
I need the block to feel the best that I came with
I need the cops to get the f*** off of my d***

Different day, same s*** media and paparazzi love
Envy and betrayal, my heart's cold as hockey gloves
I light it up and take off that beef and broccoli high
Chocolate tie, green skunk, south Jamaica queens punk

Stand up ya boy's back put ya grams up
Get money you ain't heard nothin' but a hit from me
Quit dummy 'cause it's a changin' of the guards
Beat b****es over the head the caveman of the squad

And he barely fell victim 'cause they raised him up so hard
So my 9 is on my hip and my praise is up to God
'Cause we in a battlefield where the razors lead to scars
And the lasers lead to holes, s**** in n out ya clothes

I know this feel different 'cause everything is good
They actin' like I changed, like I went Hollywood
Like I don't keep it street, like I ain't got the heat
Like I ain't homicide all over the beat

Like I ain't for the beef, like I don't really care
'Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it anywhere
There's diamonds in my chain, there's diamonds in my ear
A n**** come slippin' I'll make him disappear

Hey, ayo P, I'll buck these n****z
Can't nobody else get no money?
This is our year, next year is our year
The year after is our year, the year after is our year
Yeah, G-Unit

Songwriters
CAIN, KHARI / LLOYD, CHRISTOPHER CHARLES / JOHNSON, ALBERT

Published by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Listen to Lloyd Banks Radio on Last.fm, Radio.com or Jango

Latest News