Hard White (Up in the Club)

G shit, certified, nigga can’t touch him

Bosses all love him, haters, well fuck them

Bought cribs everywhere, everything custom

Lung bun juhn[?], bougie bitches like “What’s them?”

Solitaire clear stones, Maybach, clear dome

Blowin’ on that Lyle pack, bank rolls full grown

Well known convict, go on with the dumb shit

Thug life wit’ it, like it tatted on my stomach

Nigga better pick another number because I am not the one

The bigger pictures whats important before all is said and done

I bet I get this shit back up under my feet

Bullshit aside, what I want, I keep

I’m the big bad wolf, and I want my sheep

Your birthday cake, I want my piece

I’m beefing with MC’s if to me

It seems they’re less then decent

I’m a beast, then you’re my feast

Apologies, you just can keep it

Say you’re winning, yes you’re being condescending and facetious

G’s from seat to shine see you may bump this in your Caprice

I once had a friend named Charlie, and Charlie was always late to school

He had a black eye one day, but he wouldn’t say just what happened to him

Charlie got mad in class one day, and stood up with a .22 pistol

Told everybody that he couldn’t take it anymore, he was over being the victim

See, one bullet through the wall, and the history class was interrupted

Charlie, foot down in the pool of blood, in the class that made it public

He said that the bullies in school, they drove him to be a suicidal

Cause the mirrors didn’t reflect the criteria of an American Idol

Well, sometimes I feel like I could run through the hallways with an AK too

Not sayin’ that I would, but it might feel good, to off me a rapper or two

So, I loaded this pen with a hollow tip, and I followed T.I.P

To the hollow pits of my heart for shit, for you to role model with

Take a fifth of Jack and swallow it, take a point shell and hollow it

Don’t be the one with the gun, be the one with the rum, plus two models with

All the kids, listen up, Yelawolf don’t give a fuck about a club

I don’t wanna see you in school, tryna’ do what I do, telling folks you gon’ pop the trunk

Make something of something, or something from nothing, baby wake up

Play radioactive, let me see the reaction, see if I really give a fuck, Shady

Up in the club, don’t give a fuck

Up in the club, don’t give a fuck

Up in the club, don’t give a fuck

Up in the club, still don’t give a fuck

9 millimeter, ride with a heater, drive with a liter

I’m finna need a mic and a speaker

I’m finna beat a prominent leader, come from the seater

Tell competition “Hasta la vista”

Dog, you putting my name in the middle of sucker shit

It’s something like you gettin’ raped by a stranger

Cause you do not know who you’re fuckin’ with

Crooked is a product of the S-L-A-U-G-H-T-E-R

You, haha, funny, I had money when the DVD was a VCR

Niggas about to need CPR when they see the car, pull up, dead

I might pull over, fuck my chauffeur, cause my screwdriver’s Philip’s head

Them I’mma tell to take me to Yela, getting fucked up, I ain't feelin’ embarrassed

The feelin’ in the air is the 2.0′s party, like niggas and wiggas in Paris

Nickle 9, the rhyme, rhyming, the drama, the driver, firing alarmer

But a bunch of fly bitches saying Hi to me now cause a nigga said Hi to Rihanna

Cause I look (cause I look) and I smell good (It’s a man’s World)

That's right I’m the new James Brown, drunk in an interview, fuck you finna do?

What I’m finna do is go to the strip club and order 8 bricks

I’m on my T.I.P in ATL looking for a little pretty young thing I can escape with

Radioactive, Shady gon make it go Platinum, I couldn’t resist

Jump on that Slaughterhouse, Yelawolf, Lil Jon Hard White remix

Lil Jon, let me get a lil bit, I mean a minute, nothin’ crazy

It’s just that I’ma lyricist and I’ve been sittin’ with this ridiculous venomous bite

And I’m so ready to strike

I swing and I miss, my dick swing and you miss

I got a missle, can’t call it, I might misdial

I’m in Orbit listening to Em’s last album guzzling Gin, Recovering alcoholic

Everything looking alright, welcome to the lyricist pub

Who want a bar fight in a bar so high cause that your dealing with 4 dope muthafuckas and 2 hard whites

Deuces, period, crop circle, that's the family that matters, I’m not Urkel

But I’m smooth as Stefon, when I move to step on ya eyeball ya shit’ll look purple

I’m a product of the PJ’s, still walk through that muthafucka in my PJ’s

Yeah I’m in JP Morgan often but don’t think I can get chased out the PJ

So try me punk, bet ya body jump when ya shotty pump then ya body slump

Yelawolf let me rip this hard white but, please don't make me pop the trunk

Roll the window down I start dumping

Pull up on whatever rock that ya’ll on

Pills got a nigga walking round doing stupid shit

My definition of an Oxymoron

That ain't never stop me from gettin’ a bad one

I would tell niggas again but they heard the story

Furthermore he got a couple I ain't buss

But there's no need to rush, they reserved it for me

See I’m all about fam’ I don’t fuck with the rest

Goon’s that’ll squeeze till a couple that's left

The squad's a facade, I see smoking mirrors, ya'll paid back, too broke to cover the debt

But I’m grown adults and whether that shit you say you don’t reciprocate respect

You get plugged, and you need a doctor to cover your holes, as if they was dubbing over cassettes

You probably didn’t hear me staying on the couch?

So real I don’t need a hollow to prepare me I’m the first one in the hood to catch a body using Siri.

Cause they be thinking that I seen crazy, money motivated, cremate me

Way out your league or dream maybe

T.I. Team Shady

Up in the club, don’t give a fuck

Up in the club, don’t give a fuck

Up in the club, don’t give a fuck

Up in the club, still don’t give a fuck