Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Curtis Jackson, Michael Elizondo, Steven Wayne Standard, Andre Young, Che Pope
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50 Cent & Mobb DeepOutta Control Lyrics:
It's the infamous Mobb, M-O-B-B
(Ha Ha)
We can't be touched nigga, can't you see?
(G-Unit)
You do you man cause me I'm 'gon do my thang
(You know I do my thang)
I'm a get my drink on and party like it's ok
Trust me man it's ok bounce with me in slow mo
When they hear the kid in the house they like, "Oh no"
50 got 'em locin' again, they open again
Got 'em sippin' on that juice and gin
You could find me in the background burnin' that backwood
Stylin' and stuntin' doin' my two step frontin'
Now I'm a tell you what them told me homey
Just lose the parental discretion's advised this is grown folk music
Now blend in with me, as I proceed to break it down
It's always off the chain man when I'm around
I play the block bumpin', it was all for the dough
I get the club jumpin', cause I'm sick with the flow
You know it's sold out, like wherever I go
I jam packed the show man that's fo' sho'
I got the info you already know
Man I get it poppin' in the club everybody show me love let's go
You, know, I, got
What it takes to make the club go outta control
Quit playin', turn the music up a little bit
Bounce with me now shorty let's get into it
You, know, I, got
What it takes to make the club go outta control
Quit playin', turn the music up a little bit
Bounce with me now homey let's get into it
You wanna search me then search me but hurry up cause I'm thirsty
I need that, brown in my system P, on my side twistin'
In club do things for the chick to go both
Ways let me see that ID just for proof
With the drink till the burn is gone
Hit the dancefloor like a scene from soft porn
Before it pop, make me sign a disclaimer
Try to get me on some pop shit these chicks will frame ya
But, in any event, keep fuckin' with 50 it make cents
Cents, into them dollars, the hoes wanna holla
But you lookin' at a nigga that done came from the squalla
Now my buddy so gone I can pop ya collar
Now follow say nothin' let me see you swallow
In my crib got the co-ed back the new problem
In the club feed them liquor of the wise I'm starvin'
So much green gettin' twisted like Botanical Garden, let's go
You, know, I, got
What it takes to make the club go outta control
Quit playin', turn the music up a little bit
Bounce with me now shorty let's get into it
You, know, I, got
What it takes to make the club go outta control
Quit playin', turn the music up a little bit
Bounce with me now homey let's get into it
You already know how it go I bang I shine
I play I stay I'm goin' for mines
I'm young I'm black I'm rich and yes
I'm ghetto than the motherfuckin' project steps
I'm cool I'm calm you lookin' real stressed
I'm strapped I'm armed kid hold your head
I'm known for Gat poppin', when I got problems
I don't run, I just gun you all up
But we ain't come here to start no drama
We just lookin' for our future baby mamas
With money with face with style and body
I cook I clean I swear that mami
Just as long as you don't go off and tell nobody
I go down low, I'm lyin' I'm tryin' my best to let you know
Sugar pop get at P The Doc beat
Make it easy to get 'em in the bed sheets
You, know, I, got
What it takes to make the club go outta control
Quit playin', turn the music up a little bit
Bounce with me now shorty let's get into it
You, know, I, got
What it takes to make the club go outta control
Quit playin' turn the music up a little bit
Bounce with me now homey let's get into it
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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