Clap Back

To the world famous Murda Inc. Show

They call me the Mighty Rule! how ya living?

This real shit we talking

I wanna ask all my gangsta niggaz a real question (holla back)

What do you do - when niggaz spit at you?!

[Chorus - Ja Rule]

Clap back, we gon' clap back

We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)

We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

(Let's take 'em to war niggaz)

We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

(Let's take 'em to war niggaz!)

We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

Let's take 'em to war niggaz)

We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back

[Verse 1 - Ja Rule]

Fuck if they holl'in about Rule nigga, here's the real

I'll pop ya top like Champagne bottles that chill

Wear nothing but ice, smiles tinted up to The Greatest

Tell em I'm nice too, plus push them nice grooves

The Inc roll like duece man, I'm ol' G Bobby J

And we sling at soccer fields the yay

They don't respect that, don't get your minds around

You'll get it pushed back, y'all don't want that

I send em to the morgue while keepin my bitches bouncin fa sho

"In Da Club" with no gun, got em taking it off

Can't help that, I'm the nigga that puts it down

Once I hit that, that's if I'm up in the May (bach)

Fasten them holding the throwback, West 44 Lakers

Let's make no mistakes, resents take place

We'll still proceed you with a gun in your face

When you got one in your waist, let's cock back nigga ample space!

(C'mon!) We gon'

[Chorus]

[Verse 2 - Ja Rule]

The Rule be "In Da Club" rude motherfucker poppin the bubbly

When shit get ugly I hug the snub closely

But usually we still see your bitches

Thats is known for quick shit, trying to ride my dick

I can't handle it, lower their manners

To get they ass infront of my dick to dance, the bitch want more chance

Catching hate from a glance, but I'm a giant

These niggaz is mere ants, I'll stomp 'em wit his thang

Give bitches the back hand, pimp shit, it's not realistic

The game is helpless, let's not get it twisted

I'm young, wrapped, and gifted, but still at the bottom

And stuck somewhere between Gomorrah and Saddam

I'm here to make this rap shit hotter than Harlem

Fuck the Dog beware of Rule, cause I'm the problem

We'll still proceed you with a gun in your face

When you got one in your waist, let's cock back nigga ample space!

(C'mon!) We gon'

Like Bush and Saddam, I'm a find out

Where Em Laden's hiding and bomb him first

It could be much worse, I could be hotter than yo scrubs

Mask and glove, gun hot from burnin ass up

I'd rather be bossed up, wit a bunch of broads

The preachers daughter screaming out "Fuck the law!"

I play a struck chord, wit the Christians

But y'all got the freakiest bitches out of all the religions

And God gave me his blessings to handle my business

All these wanksta snitches, let the nina blow kisses

If she some how misses, he gon' meet the mistress

And "Clap that boy" like Birdman and Clipse

I got these niggaz all over my dick, like hoes

I'm the star at these shows, I must be as hot as they come

We'll still proceed you with a gun in your face

When you got one in your waist, let's cock back nigga ample space!

(C'mon!) We gon'

[Chorus]

[Outro]

[Ja Rule] Yeah, my nigga 'Zino in this motherfucker

[Benzino] That's how we do it, know what I mean

[Benzino] Buck '89 what's up baby, I see you

[Ja Rule] Break 'em down nigga! break 'em down!

[Benzino] Bring them birds, in the motherfucking house

[Benzino] It's not a game no mo'

[Ja Rule] Queens in this motherfucker

[Benzino] You know

[Ja Rule] All my Jersey niggaz, all my Boston niggaz

[Ja Rule] All my Brooklyn niggaz, Brooklyn sir what up!

[Ja Rule] Haha, yeah, holla at me man