Toosii - Club House

Текст песни

One, two, three straps inside my club house\nFour, Five, Six fuck around we at a club out\nOnly niggas wear white tees inside my club house\nYou can’t be around if you ain’t never shut the club down\nBitch I be with, all them niggas who really with that\nCatch a body, that’s my body, ain’t gotta split that\nBust his brains, we’ll give a nigga a shit bag\nMy ex be tryna' talk, I tell her oh we playin' tic-tac-toe\nShe got a thing for them shooters know we on go\nLike seven, eight, nine of these niggas are off the scope\nThat be ten, eleven, twelve\nGive me thirteen reasons he shouldn’t go to hell\nPardon my step, but I give on it\nNew ice, I can change the climate\nI know storms in Chicago\nNew car hit the road no mileage\nEvery time we pop out in they section, like you cocky\nBitch I heard what you said, ain’t got to ask me if I copy\nThey know all this shit get rocky, like balboa\nBitch I never danced, I do my jig out to the floor\nDon’t ask me if I’m fuckin' with that hoe you know she tore up\nThey say my city been waiting for a nigga like me to blow up\nI tell her to grow up\nYou go up, we go up\nMy whole life projectile, like it’s throw up\nDon’t tell me what you gon' do nigga you must not know us\nYou can play the base lil nigga that wasn’t for us\nOne, two, three straps inside my club house\nFour, Five, Six fuck around we at a club out\nOnly niggas wear white tees inside my club house\nYou can’t be around if you ain’t never shut the club down\nBitch I be with, all them niggas who really with that\nCatch a body, that’s my body, ain’t gotta split that\nBust his brains, we’ll give a nigga a shit bag\nMy ex be tryna' talk, I tell her oh we playin' tic-tac-toe\nShe got a thing for them shooters know we on go\nLike seven, eight, nine of these niggas are off the scope\nThat be ten, eleven, twelve\nGive me thirteen reasons he shouldn’t go to hell\nYou can call yo top shoota'\nWe’ll spin a block shoot em'\nIan never shot a cop, but bitch I be with cop shootas\nMy lil homie off the grid, he popped the lid and talked to em'\nHis mama been beggin' me to call his phone and talk to him\nCall like yesterday, keep a cold like yesterday\nI wasn’t even gon' fuck on that hoe, but I told her yes today\nFinger fuck the trigger, bitch I had a lil sex today\nIan tryna be boo’d up, bitch I ain’t Ella Mai\nCold storm, move Frita\nARP, new heater\nMy brother, my brother, poured a walk inside a two meter\nImma come around, bitch I gotta cop some new beaters\nThey say I’m hot cause a nigga ride round with two heaters\nOne, two, three straps inside my club house\nFour, Five, Six fuck around we at a club out\nOnly niggas wear white tees inside my club house\nYou can’t be around if you ain’t never shut the club down\nBitch I be with, all them niggas who really with that\nCatch a body, that’s my body, ain’t gotta split that\nBust his brains, we’ll give a nigga a shit bag\nMy ex be tryna' talk, I tell her oh we playin' tic-tac-toe\nShe got a thing for them shooters know we on go\nLike seven, eight, nine of these niggas are off the scope\nThat be ten, eleven, twelve\nGive me thirteen reasons he shouldn’t go to hell