| Clap your hands to the beat, to the beat
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| Just clap your hands to the beat, to the beat
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| Come on clap your hands to the beat, to the beat
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| I said clap your hands to the beat, to the beat
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| Uh huh and you don’t stop
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| Uh huh and you don’t stop
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| Uh huh and you don’t stop
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| We in this Great Lakes state
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| Eatin steaks 'n shrimp
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| It’s kinda hard to miss the crew
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| Because we all got limps
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| We come equipped with new kicks and stetsons
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| The super saggy rags and the white trash connection
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| No flexin, huh, know what I mean
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| You can feel us fool, we don’t need to be seen
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| It’s all about the green, not the drugs we be takin
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| That shits free with an LP in circulation
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| And we be wastin time
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| Got them all state, all county, all hood rhymes
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| It’s all good times, thank the lord
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| For dumb f**kin people and credit card fraud
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| We’re tearin up your lawn, we got herds of Lincolns
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| Step into your crib and have your whole house stinkin
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| Don’t blink and don’t think we’re soft
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| Hide your money and your gold and don’t express your thoughts
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| We get mad props, wreck all shops
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| Puttin stops on crews
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| They get confused and lose, that’s what we do
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| Styles stem from pioneers
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| Leavin suckers in awe
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| And you get jawed for lookin queer
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| Can you hear me or am I talkin to the wall
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| That’s Top Dog callin out each and every one of y’all
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| You get balls, you come and talk that shit
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| But Top Dogs camp ain’t nothin to f**k with
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| And don’t say we didn’t warn ya
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| I got this Detroit thang with more love that California
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| Drunk DJ smokin coiniac dips
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| Call me the sidekick, thug boy, kid with the limp
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| I rip through rhymes like a bullet in the breeze
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| And I float through tracks like a shark in the sea
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| A wee bit shy, but I comply by me
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| And I’m a mean mother f**ker when I have to be
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| Got young g’s with sleeves and thieves on hold
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| Strategically placed in case somebody feels bold
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| I told… you ho’s you can’t f**k with these cause
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| I make more papers then trees
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| See we believe in brotherhood forever is criteria
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| You f**kin with Top Dog
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| Your f**kin with family
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| No I ain’t feelin ya, got all that I can do to hear
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| Any time you see me you should stand clear
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| You see me in my Lincoln
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| I’m in the clubs drinkin
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| Who you gonna check bitch, what the f**k you thinkin
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| You can check me, but that shit don’t slide
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| You can get your life took tryin to take my pride
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| You ride with who, man that shit ain’t big
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| I roll with dogs that’ll rock your wig
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| And got gigs all money
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| Detroit to Portland
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| Cellular receivers and beepers is what were sportin
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| Your nothin of importance, I don’t sweat you
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| Yeah the drinks on me, but the jokes on you
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| I’m all about the everyday nothin at all
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| See I’m not doin very much, I’m just havin a ball
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| I’m in bed by four, I’m up by noon
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| I might sit around, I might write me a tune
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| I might go fishi' and again I might not
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| I might get me a fourty or pour me some scotch
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| The watch on my wrist, that don’t even exist
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| A lot of pissed people from appointments that I’ve missed
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| I dissed everybody and their mom for spite
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| Cause everybody’s barkin, but nobody ever bites
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| Your talkin loud, sayin nothin
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| Get you dad, get your cousin
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| Go and get your boy cause he’s as big as a house
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| Now take your pussy ass click and get the f**k out
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| I’m the estranged, deranged, I got domains like states
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| I live in plush hotels with them hourly rates
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| I do big plates eight times a day
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| The crew be livin large at the seafood bay
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| Got a way with the world and now I’m lookin' to scramble
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| Ain’t about to ass out on a no good gamble
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| Could handle anything, but I ain’t down for broke
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| So before somebody slides, somebody’s getting choked
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| I’m a no good freak, tweak skin like rashes
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| I lose a little love with everyday that passes
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| Ain’t a masotistic, rock statistics, vocabulary
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| I’m a very shy simplistic
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| And get this, some people say I changed
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| I’m the same mother f**ker with the same old name
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| A little extra game and extra cash could see
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| You could f**k me, but don’t put it past me
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| You wanna bash me and got no reason
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| I can lay up in the Caymans for four straight seasons
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| I ain’t a punk, I refuse to be
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| I live for what is, not what used to be
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| Your all up in the past, that’s ass
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| Hear what I say
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| I’m all about today and I’m a die that way
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| Bitch |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Steaks 'N Shrimp , by - Uncle Kracker. Song from the album Double Wide, in the genre Поп