Clap Lyrics

Clap lyrics

* bonus track right after "Jah World"







[Raekwon]



Call it the Hollow Bone syndrome line



Select sweet nine, face this, watch his whole face lift



Bracelets, murder niggas, luxurious, banks I was draped



Caked out, half a million dollars in coats



Flows is genetic, the Corleone connection in all



Selection, stock brokers with coats on



Make coke suggestion, all twin glizzies



Fireman, Gucci boots on, sideways action, murder niggas fear me yo



Cash that he did Clinton, rentin his mother crib out



We send organize the Bill of Rights get lid



Drugs that Hendrix was on, conversatin like the Dutch



Richie Conaway, Goodfellas who honor Rae



Flows that blow thru your roll and Holland



Everybody now, trip up niggas, in clicks we posin rhyme black



Half the year, half my niggas sittin upstairs



Takin pictures of ya niggas wack gear







[Chorus: Ghostface Killah (U-God)]



Listen to the (Clap)



Real niggas (Clap)



Rich niggas (Clap)



My bitches (Clap)



If you love pussy then y'all niggas (Clap)



If you love to get ate, then ya ladies (Clap)



If you real fucked up, then ya'll niggas (Clap)



If you bare witness to Allah y'all (Clap)



Aiyo you see me on the big screen y'all niggas Clap



(Jeans with a gangster lean, y'all Clap)



Good hats, sloppy automatics that Clap



(Big shit, thunder) Get around that







[Ghostface Killah]



Porcelain floors with a dog named Ginger



Bottle cap niggas that rhyme, we the winners



Then slide thru your hood in hoods



Me, Cliff, Patrick, Gary Grice and my man C. Woods



Holdin up gorilla, two niggas got a hold that shit



One shot and ya mans on it



The little kids watch from down the block



Jury box, murder hop, six stash botch, fit hit the ran spots



Spit at the statue with cash and throw dough at it



Fuck bitches raw, why? cuz I'm a pro at it



Big birds danglin, cameras snatch, flash and pop from every angle and



2000 Mark Damon'in







[Hook: Method Man]



Clap ya hands now, Clap, Clap ya hands now, Clap, Clap



Clap, Clap ya hands now, Clap, Clap, Clap ya hands now



People Clap ya hands







[Method Man]



I drink till I'm drunk, 



smoke skunk with my stinkin ass, smell the funk



Eekin out the pours, cum stain, shitty drawers



Pissin down ya elevators shaft, no class, writin graf' on ya walls



It be us, fuck ya law, niggas my cause is "because"



No yin to my yang, it's a black thing



Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains



Took the crack game applied it to the rap game, y'all



Pop quiz, now, what artist hits the hardest?



Ya down with the syndrome: retarded



I think it was them swordsmen, 



place them chess pieces on the boards and



Take it to square, this ain't no Yakool affair



Or a New World Disorder, got us, fuckin the coal miner's daughter



That y'all, but not us







[Chorus]







[Outro: kung fu sample]



During this time, I intend to teach you the Shaolin poem



The rules and commandments, that void, deceit



Cruelty and unkindness, always help the weak



Never despise the poor, always respect yourself