lirik lagu empty that clip! – xhapy
[intro: wonder]
b*tch
xhapy
cha, cha, cha
[verse 1: wonder]
pop out with the stick on me
stacks too fat, yeah, my thumbs might bleed
clutch that gat every time i speak
how you wanna go to back with a b*tch like me
you wanna get crazy, lil’ b*tch, i could get wild
you ain’t ’bout sh*t, you order your wings mild
i said i want beef, why the f*ck you order chicken?
said he wanted heat, i’ma take him to the kitchen, cha
my wrists say rollie, your b*tch don’t know me
b*tch suck d*ck, yeah, that b*tch know foreplay
the big racks on me, the b*tches all on me
f*ck a b*tch up if he ain’t comin’ with my money
[chorus: wonder]
dumb b*tch, if you f*ckin’ with me then you better run b*tch
not a choppa, not a semi, not a gun b*tch
i bring the fists if you gettin’ into somethin’
motherf*cker, motherf*cker, i’m done, b*tch
man, you b*tches don’t know style
rollie my wrist, you b*tches just look foul
i ain’t scared of sh*t but cl!ckedy*cl!ck*pow
you don’t know sh*t, you think i’ma pop out
d*mn, d*mn motherf*cker, i’m back
you talk about sticks but you don’t ever talk back
dumb b*tch, how you gettin’ me so mad?
you ain’t gettin’ sh*t, but you ain’t touchin’ these racks
don’t spend money apart from my b*tch
i just c*ck back and empty that clip
if he talk back, might get ya wrists split
that p*ssy lay flat, yeah, he ain’t ’bout sh*t
[verse 2: wonder]
if you pull up with a gat, you a b*tch boy
you gon’ have to run it back, gimme lip boy
i don’t ever get attached, you get hit boy
you gon’ make a b*tch mad with that sh*t boy, uh
take a b*tch to class, you know that we dropped out
take a b*tch to work, he already clocked out
[?] pressure, he come with the glock now
he ain’t got the money, i come with a big amount
i just pop out with the riches, you pop out lookin’ timid
i ain’t talk about a p*ssy b*tch in ’bout a lil’ minute
if it’s in my grasp then you know i gotta get it
[?] if you know i’m ’bout to spin it, uh, uh
two two threes, rollie my wrist
i don’t move with a b*tch, if he pull up he get clipped
i knew you already know i’m all about the sh*t
don’t you come at me when i be stackin’ money with your b*tch
baby gettin’ mad, i’ma pull up with the racks
he just got [?] now we send him to the back
i don’t ever lack, we gon’ take him off the map
i move independent, keep my money in a stack
f*ck, b*tch, i’m back, big facts
don’t talk that smack, you gon’ get smacked
don’t talk ’bout racks, now your b*tch mad
f*ck, b*tch, i’m back, big cash, b*tch
[chorus: wonder]
du*dumb b*tch, if you f*ckin’ with me then you better run b*tch
not a choppa, not a semi, not a gun b*tch
i bring the fists if you gettin’ into somethin’
motherf*cker, motherf*cker, i’m done, b*tch
man, you b*tches don’t know style
rollie my wrist, you b*tches just look foul
i ain’t scared of sh*t but cl!ckedy*cl!ck*pow
you don’t know sh*t, you think i’ma pop out
da*d*mn, d*mn motherf*cker, i’m back
you talk about sticks but you don’t ever talk back
dumb b*tch, how you gettin’ me so mad?
you ain’t gettin’ sh*t, but you ain’t touchin’ these racks
don’t spend money apart from my b*tch
i just c*ck back and empty that clip
if he talk back, might get ya wrists split
that p*ssy lay flat, yeah, he ain’t ’bout sh*t, b*tch
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