Clap Lyrics - Food For Thought - Young Rome

Oh, just show a little flesh 

Let me see a little flesh, mami 

Just show a little flesh 

Let me see a little flesh, mami 

Just show a little flesh 

Let me see a little flesh 

Im so hood and I can't change 

Rip blocks from Venice 

All the way to Fullton to Saint James, L.A. to BK 

Young Rome and Im serious 

Born hustler more clever then my nemesis 

Pop bottles like Im Michael Jordon in the 90s 

Six ring all I do is big things 

Fall sickin' my taste 

Big ass, small waist, flawless face 

Really dont matter the race 

'Cause we all black as soon as the lights go out 

If the head good I might show out 

If it's right that Im tight like a fin 

When dis pipe blow out 

The fifth ward, let a psycho out 

Young Rome like a redneck with his rifle out 

Whats that glow, mami ice no doubt 

Rhinestone never 

We have conference calls with Jacob 

Been like this ever since I got my cake up 

Pick the dirt off the concrete and shake up 

Been caring my timbs since B2K's break up 

Im like Patton with no Shaq, Kobe the mailman 

One word that dont compete in my brains is failing man 

Mami show a little flesh, let me see you ma 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Let your boyfriend go, hes a chi chi man 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

We bag more then broads 

We bag cities 

You can have those hood rats with them T bag titties 

Rome gotta like him, Im slappin' these dudes silly 

Rip the nerve out your body that dont feel me 

And I rock the party like Bizzy B in his prime 

Im cool as an AC Im not Busta Rhymes 

No disrespect but Im smooth as a Jazz artist 

But live as the Roots 

Homey Im beyond the hottest 

Im not a star, Im the sun, not number 2, I am the 1 

I am not a rose, I am the gun 

And I spit for the half Nash niggas sleep on cots 

Started from nothing 

Dreamin' of boats and yachts 

Man I use to dream a lot but then I stop sleepin' 

Git on my grizzle and kept bizzy 

Got my mind right, money right, never tricked 

Chicks mad 'cause Im tight 

Cheap as a birds language, I ain't the one mami 

Mami show a little flesh, let me see you ma 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Let your boyfriend go, hes a chi chi man 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Mami show a little flesh, let me see you ma 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Let your boyfriend go, hes a chi chi man 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Mami show a little flesh, let me see you ma 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Let your boyfriend go, hes a chi chi man 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Man I done seen it all 

Niggas clapped up over brick shoot outs 

With po po, pepper stray, bully sticks 

Broads impressed with this willy shit 

Think willys a trick? 

Have Diddy sippin' on Cris on some silly shit 

I dont drink from yellow bottles 

I like my liquor brown as just jo, hold a grudge no 

I erase enemys like Bubba fat 

Take stars to ball 

Clap like the Grammy Awards 

Down hits, seven up, spit hit, seven up 

Missed seven enough, deep shred 'em up 

Set 'em up, wet 'em up, shock won't let 'em up 

Hit 'em twice some more 'cause he ain't dead enough 

Call me Iron Man 

Think Im sexy now, you should see me in my boxer 

You think my flow is obnoxious 

I got old donuts in my refrigerator 

Harder then you, you niggas know how we do 

What bitch? 

Mami show a little flesh, let me see you ma 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Let your boyfriend go, hes a chi chi man 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Mami show a little flesh, let me see you ma 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma 

Let your boyfriend go, hes a chi chi man 

Put some Cris on your tits, rub it in ya ma