Mobb Deep - Get Clapped (Feat. Lloyd Banks) lyrics

Front on me and get clapped Front on him and get clapped Front on us and get clapped (you get clapped n***a) Front on me and get clapped Front on him and get clapped Front on us and get clapped (get clapped get clapped) [Chorus] 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 any where There's diamonds in my chain there's diamonds in my ear A n***a come slippin' ill make him disappear Ay n***a f** all the slick talk get bread instead Stay low strapped up metal on inf red Too smooth won't slip new j**els don't trip Been around the world twice jet, lear, boat, whip Oh sh**, I'm hella rowdy and I'm nothin' nice Money ain't sh** but a number name ya f**in' price Dick rider, coat taylor, a** kisser s**er for love, time to pick up the gla** slipper Look around a** n***a before you add liquer Cause bein' an add libber he'll be ina 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 code For they pop ya a** barbecue ya body With beans outta the shotty while I'm in the Maserati With somethin' that's gonna swallow me [Chorus] My trigga finger feenin' that n***a p a demon n***a my fangs start showin' if I'm seein' you dreamin' Get to 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 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 moms for you split 'cause you ain't never gone see that b**h again And this ain't a war n***a we just havin' fun with ya Like a bed with a baby if I smack ya I might k** ya Half a million in diamonds half a billion from rhymin' N I'm steady climbin' that means I'm still blowin up Got you burned while you lookin' see my Ferrari in Brooklyn On the corner of murda and duke so come through Ill light ya buildin' on fire that's why these rappers retire 'cause they tired of dealin' with n***as like me [Chorus] Now enough with all the lame sh** 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 dick Different day same sh** media and paparazzi love Envy and betrayal my hearts as cold as hockey gloves I light up and take off that beef and broccoli high Chocolate tie, green skunk, south Jamaica queens punk Stand up ya boys back put ya grams up Get money you ain't heard nothin' but a hit from me Quit dummy cause its a changin' of the guards Beat b**hes 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 battle field where the razors lead to scars And the lazers lead to holes, slugs in n out ya clothes [Chorus] (Yea) Hey Yo p, f** these n***as man Ill buck these n***as man, can't nobody else get no money Cause this is our year, next year is our year The year after is our year, the year after is our year (Yea) G,G,G,G,G G-Unit