Yukmouth Clap Yo Hands Lyrics

Thug Lord: The New Testament Track Listing
  • 1 Old Testament (Intro)
  • 2 Thug Lord
  • 3 Oh Boy!
  • 4 Clap Yo Hands
  • 5 Hi Maintenance
  • 6 Puffin Lah
  • 7 We Gone Ride
  • 8 Thug Money
  • 9 Do It Right
  • 10 World's Most Hated
  • 11 So Ignorant
  • 12 Ooh! Ooh! Donuts!
  • 13 Regime Killers 2001
  • 14 Smile
  • 15 New Testament (Outro)

  • He's Yukmouth

    [ CHORUS ]
    He's Yukmouth, he's thugged out
    He's Yukmouth, he's thugged out, thugged out
    Yukmouth, he's thugged out
    He's Yukmouth, he's thugged out, thugged out

    If you're thuggin and you know it, clap your hands
    If you're thuggin and you know it, clap your hands
    If you're thuggin and you know it
    When you're hustlin, nigga, show it
    If you're thuggin and you know it, clap your hands
    But if you're ballin and you know it, stomp your feet
    But if you're ballin and you know it, stomp your feet
    But if you're ballin and you know it
    Shot-callin and you show it
    If you're ballin and you know it, stomp your feet

    [ VERSE 1 ]
    Yukmouth pursue the Benjamins, the future like Timbaland
    Eat shrooms like Eminem, pop X like Lil' Kim
    Hot sex to gentlemans puffin Havana
    Bring ya drugs to Atlanta if you don't fuck with bammer
    You only fuck with chron', be poppin Cris Don
    You rockin Big John's, your watch is glistenan
    You ain't watchin the Pistons inside your dot six'n
    You got a hot chicken who never stops lickin
    I smoke the hash to ashes, my click be draggin tatted
    I probably pop a tablet but never fuck with acid
    My bitches be the baddest, petite with fat asses
    Proceed to stack the cabbage, till we in lavish mansions
    Aiyo, I toast to that, my niggas toast to that
    Cause I was broker back in the days wearin crocker sacks
    Now I smoke doja sacks, I'm never goin back
    I got the house, the Jaguar and the Rover, black

    [ CHORUS ]

    [ VERSE 2 ]
    You like menage-a-trois, you fuck with exotic broads
    You drive exotic cars, you smoke chronic by the jars
    Your platinum teeth diamond, your platinum piece diamond
    You on them streets rhymin, you makin g's timin
    You slap a bitch out, you slap a nigga out
    You slap a pimp out, you slap a trick out
    Pistol-whip a snitch down, get hit with a pistol
    We sippin Cris now, my niggas rich now
    We at them play-offs, baby, we at the Super Bowl
    We in Las Vegas, baby, fight night as usual
    I switch and gatored out, gaffled and papered out
    Pull stretch Navigators out, TV-/PlayStation-ed out
    Y'all niggas hate us now, two thou I say this now
    Jackers wanna lay me down, rappers wanna spray me down
    But they can't fuck with Yuk cause I'm a Thug Lord
    That's gon' bring em that hardcore if they want more

    [ VERSE 3 ]
    You fly to Cancun, you take flights to Jamaica
    You love them damn shrooms, you love Garcia Vegas
    You take flights to the Bahamas, you fight your baby mama
    That child payment drama, then flipped her a new Mercedes, partner
    You're not a Captain Save Her cause hoes be pullin capers
    You smoke 'dro different flavors, X Men like Doctor and Xavier
    Pop pills like Christian Slater, you on a mission, player
    You always spendin paper, fuck ice, we gettin glaciers
    My neck bling-blingin, Rolex bling-blingin
    20" bling-blingin, my set bling-blingin
    But if it was back in the days I'd take a nigga bling
    Take a nigga ring, break and make a nigga scream
    I was slingin powder sacks, I'm where them dollars at
    Till I holler back at niggas that sip more syrup than Project Pat
    Now I fuck with Rap-A-Lot, I hit the jackpot
    We like to scrap a lot, so busters keep your gats cocked

    [ CHORUS ] Lyrics © OBO APRA/AMCOS

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