Clap Back Songtext
von Ja Rule

Yeah, yeah
Haha, yeah
I gotta get my headphones, Buck
All my gangsta niggas is in the building on this one, you know
Yeah, here we go, it′s real
Hussein what's happenin′, nigga? I see you
A'ight, Shadoe what's poppin′? Blat haha, yeah

My nigga O-1 in the motherfucking house (O-1)
Jody in the house (Jody Mack)
My nigga Cadillac, Gotti what up?
Black Child, what up?
I′d like to welcome all my niggas
To the world famous Murda Inc. Show
Big shout to all my queens niggas, all my Staten Island niggas


All my Uptown niggas, all my Brooklyn niggas
All my Bronx niggas, yeah, all my Jersey niggas, you know?
We doing it real big right here (all my money niggas)
This shit commentated on the ones and twos
They call me the Mighty Rule, how ya living?
This real shit we talking
I wanna ask all my gangsta niggas a real question (holla back)
What do you do when niggas spit at you?

Clap back, 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' clap back
We gon' 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, we gon' clap back (let′s take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon′ clap back
We gon′ clap back, we gon' clap back (let′s take 'em to war, niggas)

Fuck what they hollerin′ about Rule, nigga, here's the real
I′ll pop ya top like champagne bottles to chill
With nothin' but ice, now I'll send it up to the greatest
To tell ′em I′m nice too, plus push some nice coupes
The Inc. roll like deuce, man, I'm OG Bobby J
And we slingin′ soccer fields of yay
They don't respect that, or get ya mind around and
Get it pushed back, y′all don't want that
I send ′em to the morgue while keepin' my bitches bouncin' for sure


In the club wit no gun, got ′em takin′ it off
Can't help that, I′m the nigga that puts it down
Once I hit that, that's it, I′m up in the mind, maxin' them
Holdin′ the throwback, West, 44, Lakers
Let's make no mistakes when these F's take place
What′s the procedure with a gun in your face
When you got one in your waist?
Let′s cock back, nigga, air out the space (come on), we gon'

Clap back, 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' clap back
We gon′ 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, we gon′ clap back (let's take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon′ clap back, we gon′ clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon′ clap back (let's take ′em to war, niggas)

Who be in the cub? Rule motherfucker poppin' the bubbly
When shit get ugly, I hug the snub closely
But usually used to see your bitches
Dancin′ on some freak shit, tryna ride my dick
I can handle it long as they manage
To get they ass in front of my dick and dance to Big's One More Chance
I'm catchin′ hate from a glance, but I′m a giant
These niggas is mere ants, I'll stomp out ′em wit a shank

Give bitches the back hand, this pimp shit, is not realistic
The game is helpless, let's not get it twisted
I′m young, black, and gifted, but still at the bottom
And stuck somewhere between Gomorrah and Sodom
I'm here to make this rap shit hotter than Harlem
Fuck the dog, beware of Rule ′cause I'm the problem
What's the procedure with a gun in your face
When you got one in your waist?
Let′s cock back, nigga, air out the space (come on), we gon′

Clap back, 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' clap back
We gon' 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, we gon' clap back (let′s take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon' clap back, we gon′ clap back
We gon′ clap back, we gon' clap back (let′s take 'em to war, niggas)

Let′s take 'em to war, nigga, like Bush and Saddam
I′ma find out where Em Laden's hidin' and bomb first
It could be much worse, I could be hotter than your scrubs
Mask and gloves, gun hot to burn that ass up
I′d rather be bossed up with a bunch of broads
The preacher′s daughter screamin' out, "Fuck the Lord!"
I may have struck a chord with the Christians
But y′all got the freakiest bitches out of all the religions
And God gave me his blessin' to handle my business

On 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 niggas all over my dick like hoes
I'm the star a the shows, I must be as hot as they come
What′s the procedure with a gun in your face
When you got one in your waist? (You know)
Let's cock back, nigga, air out the space (come on), we gon'

Clap back, 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' clap back
We gon′ 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, we gon' clap back (let′s take 'em to war, niggas)
We gon′ clap back, we gon' clap back
We gon' clap back, we gon′ clap back (let′s take 'em to war, niggas)

Yeah, my nigga Zino in this motherfucker (that′s how we do it, know what I mean?)
Buck '89, what′s up, baby? I see you (bust it down, nigga, break 'em down)
Bringin′ birds in the motherfucking house
It's not a game no more (queens in this motherfucker)
You know, all my Jersey niggas (all my Boston niggas)
All my Brooklyn niggas, Brooklyn, sir, what up?
Haha, yeah, holla at me, man