Lletres: Fes Taylor. Flight 10304 (T-2 Fly). G-clap.

(feat. Mr. Prezident)

[Chorus: Mr. Prezident]
Can I get a G-Clap? For my G's on the grind
Where that cheese at? Got money on they mind
Cause we need that, new coupe with the seat back
This is how your G mack, now let me get a G-Clap

[Fes Taylor:]
Clap, clap, I ain't talking bout
Fans putting hands together, I'm demanding cheddar
Only rock name brands and better
So my wolves still band together
I take on, any MC, band, whoever
Me and Prez jump off, get banded together
It's the new 2 Live Crew, I get hoes to do
Shit your man couldn't pull off, boo
That's the new V-12, I pull off two
With your press on hair weaves, pull off tools
Pants off, drawers move, pull off too
I still stroke in the whip, two door coupe
Yup, something like Rudolph in his youth
You shining, now all of a sudden we cool
Beef in the hood, try to bring the streets back
Drama with Taylor, is how you get a G-Clap

[Chorus x2]

[Mr. Prezident:]
Me, I'm like collar, your boy get dollars
Fresh out the coupe, no scuff on my pradas
I'm just cooling, fly like an ostrich
Kidnap your broad for a week like a hostage
I'm in the drop six, she my top chick
My co-pilots, all on my cockpit
No conscience, me, I don't play the role
Air force Pete, ma, nah I kept the sacred ho
A G grind it up, especially when the cake get low
Alien pinky ring, make my whole finger glow
Whoa, you see the chain and the bezel
That should tell you right there, niggas ain't on my level
Benz with the metal, first one to act up
Hit him in his chest, make his ass do a back tuck
Stab me back, what? Mash like a mack truck
All my G riders, throw them G stacks up

[Chorus x2]