Mobb Deep - Get Clapped lyrics

[Lloyd Banks] + (Havoc) Front on me and get (clapped) front on him and get (clapped) Front on us and get (clapped) you get clapped n***a [Prodigy] + (Havoc) Front on me and get (clapped) front on him and get (clapped) Front on us and get (clapped) get clapped, get clapped [Hook: Llloyd Banks] My n***as 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 full of beef, like I don't really care Cause I ain't camera shy, we can do it anywhere It's diamonds in my chain, it's diamonds in my ear A n***a come up slippin, I'll make him disappear [Lloyd Banks] Uhh, hey n***a f** all the slick talk, get bread instead Stay low, strap up, metal on, inf' red Too smooth, won't slip, new j**els, don't trip Been around the world twice, jet Leer, boat whip Oh sh**, I'm hella rowdy and I'm nuttin nice Money ain't sh** but a number, name your f**in price Dick rider, coat tailor, a** kisser s**er for love, type to pick up the gla** slipper Look around ask n***a, before you add liquor Cause bein a ad-libber to be in a bag wit'cha I'm seein the bad picture of bein a cab skipper Broke as f**, waitin for Satan to come and get'cha Keep your clique tight, know your goals, don't speed, slow ya roll Don't speak, learn the codes - 'fore they pop ya a** Barbecue your body with beans out of the shottie While I'm in the Maserati with somethin that's gon' slob me [Hook] [Prodigy] Yea... my trigger finger is feenin, the n***a up here is a demon n***a my fangs start showin if I'm seein you dreamin Get too close and I'm bustin, it won't be no discussion I'm a boss I don't speak - I just nod my head And you turned up missin with your own page in the feds I got power, and I will flex on you real quick Call yo' dogs, call yo' clique, hug yo' moms 'fore you split Cause you ain't never gon' see that b**h again And this ain't a war n***a we just havin fun wit'cha Like a bib wit a baby, if I smack you I might k** ya Half a million in diamonds, half a bid from rhymin And I'm steady and climbin - that mean I'm still blowin up Got you burn while you lookin, see my Ferrari in Brooklyn On the corner, I'm murderin through, so come through I light yo' buildin on fire, it's why these rappers retire Cause they tired, of dealin with the n***as like me [Hook] w/ ad libs [Lloyd Banks] Yeah, now enough 'bout all the lame sh**, them wrestlin games kid I need the rocks to fill the rest of the chain with I need the block to fill up best that I came with I need the cops to get the f** off my dick Different day, same sh**, 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 thai, green skunk; South Jamaica, Queens punk Stand up ya boy's back, put your grams up, get money You ain't heard nuttin but a hit from me Quit dummy, cause it's the changin of the guards Beat b**hes over their head, the caveman of the squad And he barely fall victim cause they raised him up so hard So my nine is on my hip, and my praises up to God Cause we in a battlefield, where the razors lead to scars And the lasers need to hold slugs in and out your clothes [Hook] w/ ad libs [Lloyd Banks] Yeahhhhhh, yeahhhhhh Yeahhhhhh, yeah! Aiyyo P, f** these n***as man I'll buck these n***as man Ain't nobody else gettin 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-G-G-G-G G-Unit!