Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Party Crasher, artist - Method Man. Date of issue: 10.10.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Party Crasher |
| Aww shit… not these niggas again! |
| Aiyyo listen! |
| I’m only lettin five of you motherfuckers in here tonight |
| If your man ain’t on the guest list |
| He get to the BACJ of the fuckin line |
| And you know another motherfuckin thing? |
| I don’t give a fuck if a bitch spill a drink |
| In this motherfucker tonight |
| I’m kickin ALL y’all the fuck outta here |
| Uhh |
| Muh’fuckers be up in the club scared to fuckin death |
| Nigga if you scared why don’t yo' ass just stay the fuck home |
| Check it out uhh |
| Me and mines at the door, ain’t tryin to pay your fees |
| Stop playin, you fuckin with me, I push my way in |
| Bum rush there’s plenty of us to tear the club up |
| Guzzlin Bacardi and such, I split a Dutch |
| Bouncin nigga lookin like he want war |
| Now I ain’t the one you got to front Pah |
| Pattin me down like the law |
| As I stumble in the party |
| Topsey off the Limon Bacardi for sure |
| Loungin near the bar section, rolled the L |
| And kept steppin, concealed weapon, razor sharp |
| Blue star hatchet, in the sleeve of my jacket |
| Who that kid, on the dance floor lookin for matches? |
| Burn somethin, one toke got me blasted |
| Took another toke then I passed it, choke! |
| Fantastic, herb ain’t no joke |
| Especially that indo smoke mixed with hashish |
| Ladies on the dance floor, shakin they asses |
| Got millon dollar broke niggas, that makin passes |
| Honey with the eye glasses, body work is Boombastic |
| Skin like blackberry molasses, mmmmm |
| At last it’s, time to step and make her mine |
| Niggas headin toward the bathroom tuckin they shines |
| Brothers got to keep it movin, playin with kids |
| That won’t hesitate to snatch a Cuban |
| You know what this is… |
| («Yo Duke that’s your diamonds right there God? |
| Yo that shit’ll go RIGHT where my people ain’t right now.» |
| «Yo don’t touch my shit!») |
| Now it’s on in the lavatory, I heard a scream |
| End of story couldn’t find shorty, party scene’s |
| Now a fucked up chaotic thing, won’t be long |
| Before the sirens intervene, the terrotory |
| Can’t we all get along, without the ruckus |
| Got big bouncin muh’fuckers, tryin to rush us |
| I can take a hint, what? |
| Can smell the stench |
| Of a hell bent environment, the odds against us |
| Back to the wall y’all, refuse to fall |
| All hands on deck yes, prepare to brawl |
| Uhh, every time I try to have a good time why? |
| Somebody always fuckin it up, killin my high, damn |
| Monkey wrench they whole program, party over |
| By that time I’m dead sober |
| In the midst of this whole shit fo' soldiers, dead gone |
| You can tell that they was heat holders |
| Everybody hit the deck when they expose tech, I fled the set |
| Bitch slipped and caught a broke neck, some Brooklyn kids |
| Rushed the coat check, they whole set, stompin Duke |
| Half to death and took his Rolex, it’s horrible |
| Like a front page article, Mister Pitiful |
| About a step away now we critical, uhh |
| As I boned out I heard the people shout |
| NIGGAZ, yea cold turn the party out! |
| Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh |
| (sirens) |