Club Skit Songtext
von Trina

Child come on
I know he ain′t coming over here
Come on let's go over there already
I know but child look at him, look
Look at his shoes, girl, oh no

Let′s go over there
I hope he don't come over here he is so tired, honey
He is real tired
I don't think so (what is that on his grill?)
He is definitely a fashion statement honey
What is that on his grill?
I don′t know but it′s shonuff blinding me
I know he better not come over here


Yo baby, what's up, can I buy you a drink?
Yeah, whatever
You shouldn′t have told him, yeah, now he gonna think he all that
Oh shit! Here he comes
Here you go, baby
You got the finest glass of champagne J. rogie
I've been watching you all night
Hold on let me sit right here

We did not invite yo ass to sit down
See that′s why you can't be nice to niggas in da club now
What you mean, baby?
First of all, I′m not your baby (okay)
So get your tired cell rag
Iceberg wearing foggy diamond
Cheap champagne buying ass out my face

Nigga, you must be don't know who the fuck I am
Hold on, Angel, buy this nigga a bottle of crisp
Okay! broke scrub ass nigga (gimme back my drink then, bitch)
We gonna show you how to ball, playboy