Lyrics Club Gettin' Crowded - Three 6 Mafia , Chingy

Uh, huh
(We came to bust heads)
Uh, huh
(We came to bust heads)
Uh, huh
(We came to bust heads)

This is the official
(The official)
Get yo ass knocked out music
(Get yo ass knocked the fuck out)
For bein' a non hood affliate nigga

GIB ACP

Get it boys, hypnotize minds
(What?)
Hypnotize minds, you know how its goin' down
We comin' dirty, we comin' dirty

The club gettin' crowded, throw up yo set and shout it
You talk, but you ain't 'bout it, nigga huh, nigga huh
We off that juice and Hen', I snuck that burna in
We're set trippin', nigga what? Nigga what?

I crept in the spot with a tom strap, haters that trip get blown back
We off that hash and cognac, head bussin' we on dat
Wanna freak out better pull dat ho, take her to da bar and full dat ho
Get her in da bathroom, get some head, I'm a playa, y'ain't know?

Cowards know me so they starin', trippin' off the jewels I'm wearin'
My nigga I pack stern, police in here, we ain't carin'
Pussie don't pump in blood, real niggas always show me love
Fake niggas keep yo caps and And real niggas got dem gats and slugs

If you want, you can get it, put a couple, in yo fitted
We ain't never scared trick, tell 'em GIB did it
Dragged dat punk up out this place for putting his fingas in my face
I almost caught a fuckin' case
(You cool dirty)
Yeah I'm straight

The club gettin' crowded, throw up yo set and shout it
You talk, but you ain't 'bout it, nigga huh, nigga huh
We off that juice and Hen', I snuck that burna in
We're set trippin', nigga what? Nigga what?

Yeah, what? Now I ain't even worried 'bout you, haters
Three six mafia fakers, you talk like commentators
You fiction like Terminator, my nation eliminata underestimater
Stomp 'em to the pavement with some Air Force One gators
(Bitch)

I pay 'em no mind, I show 'em my nine
I slap 'em a couple a times and any a mine
I promise he be aight, he jus' needed some wakin' up
And I guess he thought, ACP and GIB was bluffin'
(Yeah)

You got some pimps off in dis buildin'
Smokin' with yo children
In da back of da club, with my thugs syrrup sippin'
What's up with yo bitch? Suckin' dick and she givin'

Credit cards to G's with keys for dis pimpin'
They see the D Boys shinin' grindin' then they get this feelin'
Don't hate on me or play with me, these Mafia boys be killin'
They call my Juicy J, I got dat SK that be drillin'
You fuck with me you might get hit, I'm known for dome peelin'

The club gettin' crowded, throw up yo set and shout it
You talk, but you ain't 'bout it, nigga huh, nigga huh
We off that juice and Hen', I snuck that burna in
We're set trippin', nigga what? Nigga what?

(Ride out niggas)
Dammit Memphis on da scene
They sippin' syrrup and ridin' clean
On da block we buy These stacks is bulgin' out my jeans

You know these hoes be on my nuts
Take in the rims on da truck
Schemin' tryin' to take my bucks
Yeah bitch, I know what's up

Ching a ling and three six, you got bricks? We flip
Don't come sideways tryin' to playa hustle, we hip
Two clips one glock, leave ya flat from one shot

Cats playin' the role of Makaveli, it's only one Pac
Come equipped or don't come, show up homie, don't run
Best believe we won't run after da party get ya guns
Ain't no parking lot pimpin' only parking lot poppin'
You herd dem Ks choppin'

The club gettin' crowded, throw up yo set and shout it
You talk, but you ain't 'bout it, nigga huh, nigga huh
We off that juice and Hen', I snuck that burna in
We're set trippin', nigga what? Nigga what?