Lyrics:

Clap your hands to the beat, to the beat Just clap your hands to the beat, to the beat Come on clap your hands to the beat, to the beat I said clap your hands to the beat, to the beat Uh huh and you don't stop Uh huh and you don't stop Uh huh and you don't stop We in this Great Lakes state Eatin steaks 'n shrimp It's kinda hard to miss the crew Because we all got limps We come equipped with new kicks and stetsons The super saggy rags and the white trash connection No flexin, huh, know what I mean You can feel us fool, we don't need to be seen It's all about the green, not the drugs we be takin That shits free with an LP in circulation And we be wastin time Got them all state, all county, all hood rhymes It's all good times, thank the lord For dumb fuckin people and credit card fraud We're tearin up your lawn, we got herds of Lincolns Step into your crib and have your whole house stinkin Don't blink and don't think we're soft Hide your money and your gold and don't express your thoughts We get mad props, wreck all shops Puttin stops on crews They get confused and lose, that's what we do Styles stem from pioneers Leavin suckers in awe And you get jawed for lookin queer Can you hear me or am I talkin to the wall That's Top Dog callin out each and every one of y'all You get balls, you come and talk that shit But Top Dogs camp ain't nothin to fuck with And don't say we didn't warn ya I got this Detroit thang with more love that California Drunk DJ smokin coiniac dips Call me the sidekick, thug boy, kid with the limp I rip through rhymes like a bullet in the breeze And I float throug