Chord & lyrics

Clap Back chords and lyrics - JA RULE

Nhạc: Ja Rule · 2003
Genre Hip-hop Views 113
0
Guitar

Lời & hợp âm

[Intro 1]
[Em]
[Em]Yeah[C], yeah[B],
[Em]ha ha yeah!
I gotta get my headphones
All my gangsta niggas
is in the building on this one!
You [Em]know! Yeah yeah ya know
It's real! Hussein what's happenin' nigga?
I see [C]you, aight [B]Shadow what's poppin' blat!
[Em]Ha ha ha ha,
yeah my nigga O-1
in the motherfucking house
Jody in the house
My nigga Cadillac, Gotti what up?
Blackchild what up?
[Em]I'd like to welcome all my niggas
To the world famous Murda Inc. Show
Big shout to all my Queens niggas
in Staten Island
Niggas in Uptown, niggas in Brooklyn niggas
All my [C]Bronx niggas yeah,
[B]all my Jersey nig[Em]gas! you know?
We doing it real big right here!
all my money niggas
This shit commentated
on the one's and two's!
They call me Mighty Rule! how ya living?
[Em]This real shit we talking
I want to ask all my gangsta niggas
a real question
What do you [C]do when [B]niggas spit at you?

[Chorus 1]
[Em]Clap back, we gon' clap back
We goin' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to [Em]war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back,
We gon' [C]clap back, we gon' [B]clap back

[Verse 1]
Fuck if they holl'[Em]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 [Em]Inc roll like deuce 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 [C]pushed back, y'all don't [B]want that
I send em to the [Em]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
Fasten them holding the [Em]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,
[C]let's cock back nigga amp[B]le space!

[Chorus 2]
We gon'
[Em]Clap back, we gon' clap back
We goin' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to [Em]war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back,
We gon' [C]clap back, we gon' [B]clap back

[Verse 2]
The Rule be "In Da [Em]Club"
rude motherfucker poppin the bubbly
When shit get ugly I hug the snub closely
But usually we still see your bitches
That's is known for quick shit,
trying to ride my dick
I can't han[Em]dle it, lower their manners
To get they ass in front of my dick to dance,
the bitch want more chance
Catching hate from a glance, but I'm a giant
These nig[C]gas is mere ants,
I'll stomp [B]'em wit his thing
Give bitch[Em]es 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 [Em]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,
[C]let's cock back nigga amp[B]le space!

[Chorus 3]
We gon'
[Em]Clap back, we gon' clap back
We goin' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to [Em]war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back,
We gon' [C]clap back, we gon' [B]clap back

[Verse 3]
[Em]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 [Em]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 [C]freakiest bitches out
of [B]all the religions
And [Em]God gave me his blessings
to handle my business
All these wanksta snitches,
let the nina blow kisses
If she some how misses,
he goin' meet the mistress
And "Clap that boy" like Birdman and Clipse
I got these [Em]niggas 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,
[C]let's cock back nigga amp[B]le space!

[Chorus 4]
We gon'
[Em]Clap back, we gon' clap back
We goin' clap back, we gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to [Em]war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back
(Let's take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back,
We gon' [C]clap back, we gon' [B]clap back

[Outro 1]
[Em]Yeah, my nigga 'Zino in this motherfucker
Break 'em down nigga! break 'em down!
[Em]Queens in this motherfucker
All my Jersey niggas, all my Boston niggas
All my Brooklyn niggas,
[C]Brooklyn sir what [B]up!
Ha [Em]ha, yeah, holla at me man
[Fade out]
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