Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go shawty
It's your birthday
We gon' party like it's your birthday
We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday
And you know we don't give a fuck
It's not your birthday!

You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Mama, I got what you need if you need to feel the buzz
I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love
So come give me a hug if you into to getting rubbed

You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Mama, I got what you need if you need to feel the buzz
I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love
So come give me a hug if you into to getting rubbed

When I pull out up front, you see the Benz on dubs
When I roll 20 deep, there's always drama in the club
Nigga heard I fuck with Dre, everybody show me love
When you sell like Eminem you get plenty of groupie love
Look homie, ain't nothin' changed: pros down, G's up
I see Xzibit in the cut, hey man, roll them trees up (roll it!)
If you watch how I move, you'll mistake me for a player or pimp
Been hit with a few shells, but I don't walk with a limp (I'm aight)
In the hood in L.A. they sayin': 50, you hot (huh, uh)
They like me, I want 'em to love me like they love Pac
But holla in New York, fo' sho' they'll tell you I'm loco (yeah!)
And the plan is to put the rap game in a chokehold (huh, uh)
I'm fully focused, man, my money on my mind
Got a mil' out the deal and I'm still on the grind (whoo!)
Now Shorty said she feelin' my style, she feelin' my flow (huh, uh)
Her girlfriend with her, they bi and they ready to go (okay!)

You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Mama, I got what you need if you need to feel the buzz
I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love
So come give me a hug if you into to getting rubbed

You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Mama, I got what you need if you need to feel the buzz
I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love
So come give me a hug if you into to getting rubbed

My flow, my show brought me the dough
That bought me all my fancy things
My crib, my cars, my clothes, my jewels
Look, homie, I done came up and I ain't changed (what? What? Yeah!)

And you should love it way more than you hate it
Oh, you mad? I thought that you'd be happy I made it (whoo!)
I'm that cat by the bar toastin' to the good life
Moved out the hood, now you tryin' to pull me back, right?
When my joint get to pumpin' in the club, it's on
I wink my eye at yo' chick, if she smiles, she gone
If the roof on fire, man, just let it burn
They talkin' about money, homie, I ain't concerned
I'ma tell you what Banks told me
'Cause, go 'head, switch the style up
And if they hate, then let 'em hate, and watch the money pile up
Or we can go upside your head with a bottle of bub'
Come on, they know where we be (whoo!)

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Composição: A. Young / Curtis Jackson / Mike Elizondo. Essa informação está errada? Nos avise.
Traduzida por Marvin. Legendado por Kelvin e Rosa. Revisões por 12 pessoas . Viu algum erro? Envie uma revisão.


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