Um Letra

Uh Where the club at?
Uh, uh where the club at?
Swizz Beats, Strings
Uh Where the club at?
Ruff Ryders

[Strings]
How come?
Niggas constantly fronting
Mouths wide open but they ain't saying nothing
Y'all dumb, bitches sound pitiful
Unoriginal, think your shit is critical
Now run, for cover when my joint come on,
Don't need a crew bitch I hold my own,
Y'all bums, get out, my shit out, I burn your crib out
With the hotness that's spinning
Want some?
Give it and get it right back
200 four, put a whole in your soul
Gun, gun in my hip, pistol pump grip
Trigger finger slip then you slip back a dip
Da bums dirty, gritty, low down
Telling me to slow down, bust four more rounds
Da club bouncing up and down and
Looking all around at niggas straight clownin'
Make money is what I do best and
Y'all niggas schemin', you better where vest then
STRINGS niggas that's my name and
When I go platinum you know I'm to blame and
And partna what'cha saying, nothing really right?
Y'all broads steady talking, your shit ain't really tight
I'm driving you off, something ain't right
My wrists all flooded, bank account cluttered
For all you motherfuckers wonderin' I stay buttered
Y'all niggas take too long to come, I'm done
I'm turning the page, I ain't got no time for games
I'm grown and I got a child your age
Make it a million degrees in this motherfucker
Try to catch your breath
And I got the joint hoppin' from the top to the left
Lyrical crack, too much will rock ya to death
In the studio makin' hits, while you failing whole sets
Any way we move you gon' get your palms wet
A beautiful but deadly MC is on the M-I-C
Prepare for your death, S-T-R-I-N-G-S, ghetto fabulous
I'mma platinum Rolley, and you ain't worth my time
I'mma silver dollar, you bitches just dimes
If you don't have class, before you have cash
You might never get it, you can't buy
Bitch you born wit' it, so go on wit' it
Cause you gon go get it, cause I done shitted
Either you wit' it or forget it, y'all niggas just plain did it
So quit it nigga