Clap On – Song and Lyrics by 8Ball


Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Clap On’ by 8Ball. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 8Ball or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

Lay it down, lay it down cocksukaz,
All you hatas and bustas best beware,
Cause if you think its about chu comin’ out hard,
On da outside lookin’ in,
On top of da world,
Space age pimpin’,
And living legends da motherfuckaz back,
Guns cocked, and reloaded
Hm, and dey ridin’ high.

Clap on, clap off,
Got dis strap willin’ to knock ya trap off
Clap on, clap off,
Got dis strap willin’ to knock ya cap off

Big face rubber band gimme dat shit
Nigga you don’t need it anyway loud mouth bitch nigga,
Snitch nigga at da club like he ain’t done nothin’
Chest poked out cock sucka’ you don’t run nothin’
OK I’m a pull a muthafuckin’ o.j.
Leave da premises bloody ride off wit da yay!
Pray you dont ever see it unfold in ya face nigga
Dis shit and wax is da inner taste off
Wit cha fuckin’ head dispose of da body
Put da work on da street wrist froze at da party
Dis here certified industry never me disrespect
Boy you know what its goin’ be

[Chorus: x2]

My nigga you know what its feelin; to be death to my enemy
Patna your no kin t me tell it to da gelatin
Herd chu been spillin’ beans birds from da Philippines
One serve judge 2 da nigga you feelin’ to serve me,
I ain’t feelin’ to go back for nar a nigga
Naw one phone call bullets comin’ through ya
Wall play about my mu fuckin’ money and da saw
My nigas tow throw aways fuk da law tools on deck
Wit tech’s and da sawed-off shots 2 ya neck
Whats left get hauled off got em shot em bullets
Bouncin’ lossen blood by da ounces momma cryin’ up a river when da news announces

[Chorus: x2]

I’m pimp tight M-J-G plenty ammunition
In my coat pocket when I squeeze I’ma get attention
You can talk shit just don’t put my name in it,
Dis is real life and I don’t play games in it,
I’m a stranger to you so you can’t handle me you ain’t killin nothin’
But ya homeboy’s and ya league you can bump ya guns,
All dat bullet talk you say you don’t mean shit,
Mufucka’ dis a new day you can neva play like piano
You sloppy I’m jus’ slippin’ like Giano Versaci
I’m like da wire you don’t wanna start shit
I get a doctor to kill you, and dump you in some apartments