Lyrics Club House - Toosii
To-to,
Toosii
One,
two,
three
straps
inside
my
club
house
Four,
five,
six
fuck
around
we
at
a
club
out
Only
niggas
wear
white
tees
inside
my
club
house
You
can′t
be
around
if
you
ain't
never
shut
the
club
down
Bitch
I
be
with,
all
them
niggas
who
really
with
that
Catch
a
body,
that′s
my
body,
ain't
gotta
split
that
Bust
his
brains,
we'll
give
a
nigga
a
shit
bag
My
ex
be
tryna′
talk,
I
tell
her
oh
we
playin′
tic-tac-toe
She
got
a
thing
for
them
shooters
know
we
on
go
Like
seven,
eight,
nine
of
these
niggas
are
off
the
scope
That
be
ten,
eleven,
twelve
Give
me
thirteen
reasons
he
shouldn't
go
to
hell
Pardon
my
step,
but
I
give
on
it
New
ice,
I
can
change
the
comet
I
know
storms
in
Chicago
New
car
hit
the
road
no
mileage
Every
time
we
pop
out
in
they
section,
like
you
cocky
Bitch
I
heard
what
you
said,
ain′t
got
to
ask
me
if
I
copy
They
know
all
this
shit
get
rocky,
like
Balboa
Bitch
I
never
danced,
I
do
my
jig
out
to
the
floor
Don't
ask
me
if
I′m
fuckin'
with
that
hoe
you
know
she
tore
up
They
say
my
city
been
waiting
for
a
nigga
like
me
to
blow
up
I
tell
her
to
grow
up
You
go
up,
we
go
up
My
whole
life
projectile,
like
it′s
throw
up
Don't
tell
me
what
you
gon'
do
nigga
you
must
not
know
us
You
can
play
the
base
lil
nigga
that
wasn′t
for
us
One,
two,
three
straps
inside
my
club
house
Four,
five,
six
fuck
around
we
at
a
club
out
Only
niggas
wear
white
tees
inside
my
club
house
You
can′t
be
around
if
you
ain't
never
shut
the
club
down
Bitch
I
be
with,
all
them
niggas
who
really
with
that
Catch
a
body,
that′s
my
body,
ain't
gotta
split
that
Bust
his
brains,
we′ll
give
a
nigga
a
shit
bag
My
ex
be
tryna'
talk,
I
tell
her
oh
we
playin′
tic-tac-toe
She
got
a
thing
for
them
shooters
know
we
on
go
Like
seven,
eight,
nine
of
these
niggas
are
off
the
scope
That
be
ten,
eleven,
twelve
Give
me
thirteen
reasons
he
shouldn't
go
to
hell
You
can
call
yo
top
shoota'
We′ll
spin
a
block
shoot
em′
I
ain't
never
shot
a
cop,
but
bitch
I
be
with
cop
shootas
My
lil
homie
off
the
grid,
he
popped
the
lid
and
talked
to
em′
His
mama
been
beggin'
me
to
call
his
phone
and
talk
to
him
Call
like
yesterday,
keep
a
cold
like
yesterday
I
wasn′t
even
gon'
fuck
on
that
hoe,
but
I
told
her
yes
today
Finger
fuck
the
trigger,
bitch
I
had
a
lil
sex
today
Ian
tryna
be
boo′d
up,
bitch
I
ain't
Ella
Mai
Cold
storm,
move
Frita
ARP,
new
heater
My
brother,
my
brother,
poured
a
walk
inside
a
two
meter
Imma
come
around,
bitch
I
gotta
cop
some
new
beaters
They
say
I'm
hot
cause
a
nigga
ride
round
with
two
heaters
One,
two,
three
straps
inside
my
club
house
Four,
five,
six
fuck
around
we
at
a
club
out
Only
niggas
wear
white
tees
inside
my
club
house
You
can′t
be
around
if
you
ain′t
never
shut
the
club
down
Bitch
I
be
with,
all
them
niggas
who
really
with
that
Catch
a
body,
that's
my
body,
ain′t
gotta
split
that
Bust
his
brains,
we'll
give
a
nigga
a
shit
bag
My
ex
be
tryna′
talk,
I
tell
her
oh
we
playin'
tic-tac-toe
She
got
a
thing
for
them
shooters
know
we
on
go
Like
seven,
eight,
nine
of
these
niggas
are
off
the
scope
That
be
ten,
eleven,
twelve
Give
me
thirteen
reasons
he
shouldn′t
go
to
hell
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