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Clap - Young Rome lyrics


(feat. Rufus Blaq)

Just show a little flesh

Let me see a little flesh (mami, mami)

Just show a little flesh

Let me see a little flesh (mami, mami)

Just show a little flesh

Let me see a little flesh

[Rome Rap 1:]

Iím so hood and I cant change

Rip blocks from Venice

All the way to Fullton to Saint James

LA to BK

Young Rome and Iím serious

Born hustler more clever then my nemesis

Pop bottles like Iím Michael Jordon in the 90ís

Six ring all I do is big things

Fall sickin

My taste

Big ass, small waist

Flawless face

Really donít matter the race

Cause we all black as soon as the lights go out

If the head good I might show out

If its right Iím tight like a feen

When dis pipe blow out

The fifth ward

Let a psycho out

Young Rome like a redneck with his rifle out

Whatís that glow, mami ice no doubt

Rhinestone never

We have conference calls with Jacob

Been like this ever since I got my cake up

Pick up the dirt off the concrete and shake up

Been caring my timbs since B2K break up

Iím like Patton with no Shaq, Kobe the mailman

One word that donít compete in my brains is failing man

[Chorus]

Mami show a little flesh ,let me see you ma

Put a little Cris on tits, rub it in ya ma

Let your boyfriend go heís a chi-chi man

Put a little Cris on tits, rub it in ya ma

[Rome Rap 2:]

We bag more then broads

We bag cities

You can have those hood rats with those t-bag tities

Rome gotta like him Iím slappin these dudes silly

Rip the nerve out your body that donít feel me

I rock the party like Bizzy B in his prime

Iím cool as an AC Iím not Busta Rhymes

No disrespect but Iím smooth as a Jazz artist

But live as the Roots

Homey Iím beyond the hottest

Iím not a star

Iím the sun

Not #2

I am the 1

I am not a rose

I am the gun

And I spit for the half niggas sleep on cots

Started from nothing

Dreaming of boats and yachts

Man I use to dream a lot but then I stop sleepin

Got on my grizzle and kept bizzy

Got my mind right, money right

Never tricked

Chicks mad cause iím tight

Cheap as a birds language

I aint the one mami

[Chorus]

Mami show a little flesh ,let me see you ma

Put a little Cris on tits, rub it in ya ma

Let your boyfriend go heís a chi-chi man

Put a little Cris on tits, rub it in ya ma

[Rufus Blaq Rap:]

Man I done seen it all

Niggas clapped up over brick shoot outs

With po-po, pepper stray, bully sticks

Broads impressed with this willy shit

Think willyís a trick?

Have Diddy sippin on Cris on some silly shit

I donít drink from yellow bottles

I like my liquor brown as just jo

Hold a grudge no

I erase enemyís like Bubba fat

Take stars to ball

Clap like the grammy awards

Down hits, seven up

Spit hit, seven up

Missed seven enough

Shredem up

Setem up, wetem up

Shock wont letem up

Hittem twice more cause he aint dead enough

Call me iron man

Think Iím sexy now

You should see me in my boxer

You think my flow is obnoxious

I got old donuts in my refrigerator

Harder then you

You niggas know how we do

What bitch!!!

[Repeat Chorus]
Food for Thought album
         Song Rating
01   Intro lyrics   -
02   Freaky lyrics   -
03   I Don't Care lyrics   -
04   After Party lyrics   -
05   In My Bedroom (Interlude)[add]   -
06   In My Bedroom lyrics   -
07   Crazy Girl lyrics   -
08   Sexapade lyrics   -
09   2 Step (Intro)[add]   -
10   2 Step[add]   -
11   Best Days lyrics   -
12   Clap   -
13   In My Car lyrics   -
14   Wha Cha Doin Tonight lyrics   -
15   Look Down on Me[add]   -
16   Back It Up [*][add]   -
 

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See also: Intro lyrics, Freaky lyrics, I Don't Care lyrics, After Party lyrics, In My Bedroom lyrics, Crazy Girl lyrics, Sexapade lyrics, Best Days lyrics, In My Car lyrics, Wha Cha Doin Tonight lyrics, by Young Rome lyrics