We Thuggin

feat. R. Kelly
[Fat Joe (R. Kelly)]
(Ooohhh, mmm)
Yea, uh, uh (Fat Joe and the R)
That shit y'all (Breakin shit down)
Shake that, funky, funky, funky (Yeah)
Sticky, icky, icky - yeah uh
I got that shit y'all
I got that shit y'all
Uh yo yo

[Fat Joe]
Crackman and I'm at it again
Niggas had they run, now it's time for
change
When we step in the club, nigga tuck ya
chain
Got the mink on - same color the Range
Uh, pour liqour for my nigga that's gone
Big Pun! Then we party like we just came
home
Fuck a bitch if she act to grown
I don't need that shit, I got my wife at
home
Uh words slurrin, dirty urine
Drunk of off Henny and the Joe keep burnin
Dancin with shorty and her friend keep
flirtin
I don't always crush two but tonight
seems certain
Party hard like "Fuck all y'all!"
Bottles in the air like we stuck up the
bar
Terror Squad man you know who we are
Cruise through ya block and them drop-top
Bentley's is ours

[Chorus - R. Kelly]
Yeah, we thuggin, rollin on dubs and,
Off up in the club, whylin like what
Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser,
mami don't stop
Throwin up six o'clock, plus I got four
hun-nies in the drop
And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot
And it's full with hunnies, panties with
no tops
We take a puff of 'dro and be aiight

[Fat Joe]
Yea uh, yea yea yo
Everybody wanna know where the crib's at
Niggas just now gettin ice, so we get that
Mami starin at me like she wanna get
kidnapped
Money lookin happy with his wife but we
triz that
Along with Lisa, Aisha, Shonda, Renee
Even ran through the dorms down in Morgan
State
In Miami, pool-party off the chain
Gettin brains in the water on Memorial Day
Uh, grand-mami all cool and shit
It's ya birthday, show me what I'm foolin
with
Like no doubt, pokin doll out, pull ya
g-string down south
Owww! Pass that, give shorty a shot
True enough we gon' see if she naughty or
not
I'm on E feelin ready and hot
I give 'em twenty a pop, you wanna roll,
leave the pennies atop

[Chorus - R. Kelly]

[RK] Fat Joe, R. Kelly we proper
[FJ] Yeah, Terror Squad, Rockland what
the fuck what
[RK] Fat Joe, R. Kelly we proper
[FJ] Uh, uh, Rockland, Terror Squad what
the fuck what

[Both] Some of these kids is doin they
own thing
But none of these kids stack chips like us
Some of these cats is doin they own thing
But none of these cats run tricks like us

[Chorus - R. Kelly]

[Fat Joe]
Haha, yeah uh
You know what this is
Chi-town - BX
What the fuck what?
Out...