Fat Joe We Thuggin Feat R Kelly Lyrics

We Thuggin Feat R Kelly 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's is ours 

  

 [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 be-atch 

  

 [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 pop up 

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

 [RK] Fat Joe, R. Kelly we pop up 

 [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