Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Step In Da Club, artist - Baby Bash. Date of issue: 31.12.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Step In Da Club |
| I’m a blast off like a damn Houston rocket |
| Roll around town, with some dank in my pocket |
| Grandma say, «Ronnie Ray, you need to stop it» |
| Punk bootleggers, man, they fuckin’off my profit |
| Dip up in the club, and she eyeballin’me |
| Remind me of the breeze from Terminator 3 |
| Think ya nasty |
| She the hoe extravaganza |
| Gloss when I floss, I’m the boss like Tony Danza |
| Puttin’hands on, motherfuckers actin’up |
| Give me fifty feet, better back the fuck up Me and Juan Gotti smashin’outta T-Town |
| Look at Low-G, got a fool beat down (Beat down) |
| Downtown, Super Bowl XXXVIII (Eight) |
| In the clutz city of no pity, movin’weight (Weight) |
| Case to get in state |
| Keep me in the G manner (Manner) |
| All my homies roll like Tony Montana (Tana) |
| Listen to the law, jab and jaw off on a scanner (Scanner) |
| Sippin’purple hawk, startin’bangin’David Banner (Banner) |
| Money in the Benz, but I’m layin’in the 'Llac ('Llac) |
| Stomach so swoll', throwin’up in the back |
| She was fine, yes sir, she was trill |
| Plus she had a pocketfull of colorful pill (Man, CHILL!) |
| Bring heat through your whole crew flannel (Flannel) |
| Crooked, them chickens put on a Food Channel (Channel) |
| Roll with the pimps, y’all, naw, I’m not a baller (Baller) |
| Teller bought the cities like a blue Nightcrawler |
| Call her on the celly, with my jelly, meet the mami at the tele |
| Roll the fatty, jump in the ride and disappear like Machavelli |
| What |
| Man, I step in the club like it ain’t no thang |
| On valet park, been drankin’all day |
| Paparazzi takin’pictures and the haters lookin’mad |
| But the barber’s showin’love, and I’m signin’autographs |
| Bartender know me, and he know I do the fool |
| Everybody in my ear, I’m lookin’like, «Who is you!?» |
| Give me fifty and a seas on the rocks for these boys |
| Can’t stand male groupies, move around with that noise |
| I’m tryin’to sit down and roll up and get blowed |
| Find somethin’I can take back to the momo |
| Like that, right there, you lookin’good, no doubt |
| What you got under that skirt, what you talkin''bout |
| I’m waitin’for my boys downstairs to get done |
| They wouldn’t let me on stage, they said I was drunk |
| But it’s about to be two, girl, tell me if you ready |
| Let’s sip champagne in my jacuzzi at the tele |
| My cup got sip in my soda |
| I don’t give a fuck, don’t tip my shit over |
| Six bad bitches sittin’in a Range Rover |
| Paul got 'em all, lookin’over they shoulder |
| Tuggin’on dro, got smoke in my windpipe |
| Boys wanna know, 'bout my hoes and my pimp life |
| Nigga, what it is, what it was, what it been like |
| Can I get a chickenhead shake and some french fries |
| Hand’s so skin tight |
| Dance’s so freak like |
| Notch after notch, in the club, on a weeknight |
| Now she wanna go home, go to bed and sleep tight |
| Bet this Henessey 'bout to here make her speed right |