A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

LIL WYTE lyrics : "Crash Da Club (Remix)"

(feat. Juvenile)
[Lil' Wyte]
...ah yeah Hypnotize Minds, wassup Lil' Wyte featuring Juvenile

Crash the motha$#[email protected]' club, the REMIX!! - and its goin' down for you hoes
Like THIS!!...Multiple Memphis scares, outlining your insides wit' bars
Grippin' your nina hard, (*##$ my blood inha-led by heart

When the $#[email protected] you gon' start, recognize that life is a game
And it's always the same, them dice you rolling ain't 'Bouta change
I'm snatchin' your chain, reimbursing you with some pain

It's all over mane, in which direction he makes a zane
I ain't 'bout that fame, I'm 'bout the cheese, and this 'Bouta bring
So $#[email protected] your hoe name, with you my faith was lacking some things

I'm starting all over with composition sticky like doja
And I thought I told ya when I come through I'm crushing like boulders
I'm hard ta top, shoot at plenty I bet it's gon' knock it - whatever I drop

But even your beef can't touch what I got
You wildin' or not, if is so bring all your beef ta the spot
Hope you got your glock, I'm strapped with no hesi-tant ta pop

So back your words up, and keep on choking out on that @@#!
You like it or not, its everlasting - ain't 'Bouta stop


[Hook: Lil Wyte - repeat 8X]
We 'Bouta Crash Da Club - throw some chairs
[DJ Scratching] Break - Break...Break - Break...Break Something


[Juvenile]
Aiyo smoke something, choke something, get real nice

We ain't gon, fall on our face - but we gon' be right
Look, police ain't around when I do my dirt
Becuz I map it all loud and then I put in work

You with them freaks - I be in the streets
Y'all be wearing them Bee's - I be wearing Ree's
Running wit' my g's from the U-T-P

This is where I'm gonna be until I D-I-E
Wodie, it's goin' down from the Easy Bay ta the West Bay
Where ^!$$%z drank V.S.O.P. until they breath stank

(*##$ gatta say something, err' time
They never handle they buisness, but staying in line
Seeking you will find, the loaded up .9

Wanted at 'cha cuz it of fa' stealin' my mind
Juvenile and Three-6 thats a-one-of-a-kind
Tooken up yo golds - ^!$$% get ready ta blind


[Hook]


[Lil' Wyte]
I'm 'Bouta crash da club, break the law
Throw some chairs, crack your jaw

If it's killing season - ain't no reason - ain't no need ta stale
I'm the one put here ta absorb all this energy and pain
Non-stop-pop-from-the-top-of-the-clip-in-ya-glock, I still don't feel you mane

Cause of that, ground the [email protected]%!e and now I'm puffin' a pound of dro
When I'm on that level and wit' my killaz you will be found on the flo'
I must confes, I ain't 'bout %#@!, but if you think ta cross me (*##$

You'll end up stanky - walk the planky - and empty out your pockets (*##$
Break da law, break your leg, crash da club and crack your neck
Wit' these issues that I'm facing - daily I should tote a tec

Get respect, that's no option, all the haters filled with toxin'
Walk right through the center of the crowd and pistols get ta flossin'
Causing problem - dodging bullets - soon as I corrupt the scene

Leaving damage - making havoc reaction $#[email protected]' with me
Chair to your bizack go through my head when you ignite the flame
Lead to your bizack of your hizead before it hit your brain


[Hook]

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