Clap Ya Hands

Yow, uh Sit tight, I'm bringing knives to this stick fight (Yeah) I'm taking lives when I spit right (Yeah) And I got five on this live wired mic with my fist tight Live from the city where the kids fight (Uh) You can catch a show I'll be bettin' that your bitch might (You bet it) She say it's magic, but she turnin' all the tricks, right? (Right) Uh Sick vibe, come rip on the riptide This villain pillagin' wives and villages six miles wide And killin' 'em (Yeah), hit the blunt, sip a sip of rum (Yes) I peep the map, set the mission, then it's git-r-done Hit the indica, then plunder 'til the sun's up Rinse, lather, repeat until the kid's gettin' dumb hung Yeah, and I ain't talkin' William (American Idol) But it bangs, yeah, it bangs when I whisper in that eardrum ToadStool, dog always been a weird one (Always) Uh, say somethin', what up? Clap your hands Mic check, one, two, what is this? The music or your life? I'm like, what's the difference? Clap your hands, clap your hands, what's the difference? Uh Clap your hands Mic check, one, two, what is this? The music or your life? I'm like, what's the difference? Clap your hands I'm like, what's the difference? Uh Clap your hands, clap your hands Mic check, mic check, it's Illiterat singin' it (Singin') Bringin' it to the brink from the hip syllable slingin' With unkillable villainous syntax (Syntax) Polished like it's been waxed The fire breath, lyrical cinnamon Tic Tacs I spit fast, so put up your hand and get smashed (Get smashed) You're just trash and everyone that you're with laughs As you float away to the ozone Head inflated at a rate alarming, but you're slated to go home I hear the people complaining, waiting for something new Well, get out the way 'cause the widebody coming through And I'ma do what I do, get on the mic handsome Lubricate the social situation and incite dancin' So I can keep 'em on the edge of the seat So smooth, even the vegetables are movin' their feet Groovin' the beat I give 'em what only a rapper can The name's Illiterat, but you can call me Dapper Dan Clap your hands Mic check, one, two, what is this? The music or your life? I'm like, what's the difference? Clap your hands, clap your hands What's the difference? Uh Clap your hands Mic check, one, two, what is this? The music or your life? I'm like, what's the difference? Clap your hands Clap your hands, clap your hands Now clap your hands some (Clap) Come with slippery Dan Sampson And get ready to rock and roll, understand, son? Deep back of the pocket flow with the band (With the band) One million-dollar sound on the mic like king's ransom Clap your hands, clap your hands What's the difference? Clap your hands What's the, what's the diff—, the difference? Clap your, clap your, clap your hands Clap, clap-clap-clap, clap, c-c-c-clap your hands 'Sup, bitch? Ugh, oh, oh, dear Lord, oh man Why w— Why? Where are my boys? Where are my Stooligans now? Where are my Stooligans? Oh, I'ma hurt somebody This is the night This is the night where I'm gon' have to hurt somebody I know I'ma have to hurt somebody Be-Beelzebelle? Oh, Beelzebelle, oh, Beelzebelle, oh, Beelzebelle Where are my boys? I don't see your boys here Pastor, I only see my boys Your (Mmm-hmm), your boy? They is not your boys Do not claim my boys Now I know why you stole 'em You stole 'em 'cause you're jealous of my Jesus juice You're just jealous Pastor, Pastor, Pastor I didn't steal nobody and I ain't jealous of nothin' I got mine Come on in here and come have a drink, come on Ain't no way in hell am I gonna have a drink with you