Fat Joe F- R Kelly We Thuggin Lyrics

We Thuggin Lyrics

[Fat Joe (R. Kelly)]

 (Ooohhh, mmm)

 Yea, uh, uh (Fat Joe and the R)

 That shit y'all (Breakin shit down)

 Shake that, funky, funky, funky (Yeah)

 Sticky, icky, icky - yeah uh

 I got that shit y'all

 I got that shit y'all

 Uh yo yo

 

 [Fat Joe]

 Crackman and I'm at it again

 Niggas had they run, now it's time for change

 When we step in the club, nigga tuck ya chain

 Got the mink on - same color the Range

 Uh, pour liqour for my nigga that's gone

 Big Pun! Then we party like we just came home

 Fuck a bitch if she act to grown

 I don't need that shit, I got my wife at home

 Uh words slurrin, dirty urine

 Drunk off of Henny and the 'jo keep burnin

 Dancin with shorty and her friend keep flirtin

 I don't always crush two but tonight seems certain

 Party hard like "Fuck all y'all!"

 Bottles in the air like we stuck up the bar

 Terror Squad man you know who we are

 Cruise through ya block and them drop-top Bentley Azures

 

 [Chorus - R. Kelly]

 Yeah, we thuggin, rollin on dubs and,

 Off up in the club, whylin like what

 Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, mami don't stop

 Throwin up six o'clock, plus I got four hun-nies in the drop

 And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot

 And it's full with hunnies, panties with no tops

 We take a puff of 'dro and be aight

 

 [Fat Joe]

 Yea uh, yea yea yo

 Everybody wanna know where the crib's at

 Niggas just now gettin ice, so we get that

 Mami starin at me like she wanna get kidnapped

 Money lookin happy with his wife but we triz that

 Along with Lisa, Aisha, Shonda, Renee

 Even ran through the dorms down in Morgan State

 In Miami, pool-party off the chain

 Gettin brains in the water on Memorial Day

 Uh, grand-mami all cool and shit

 It's ya birthday, show me what I'm foolin with

 Like no doubt, pokin doll out, pull ya g-string down south

 Owww! Pass that, give shorty a shot

 True enough we gon' see if she naughty or not

 I'm on E feelin ready and hot

 I give 'em twenty a pop, leave the panties atop

 

 [Chorus - R. Kelly]

 

 [RK] Fat Joe, R. Kelly we proper

 [FJ] Yeah, Terror Squad, Rockland what the fuck what

 [RK] Fat Joe, R. Kelly we proper

 [FJ] Uh, uh, Rockland, Terror Squad what the fuck what

 

 [Both] Some of these kids is doin they own thing

       But none of these kids stack chips like us

       Some of these cats is doin they own thing

       But none of these cats run tricks like us

 

 [Chorus - R. Kelly]

 

 [Fat Joe]

 Haha, yeah uh

 You know what this is

 Chi-town - BX

 What the fuck what?

 Out...