I was a terror since the public school era
Bathroom passes, cuttin classes, squeezing asses
Smoking blunts was a daily routine
Since thirteen, a chubby nigga on the scene
I used to have the tre` duce
And the deuce deuce in my bubblegoose
Now i got a mac in my knapsack
Loungin' black, smoking sacks up in acts
And sidekicks with my sidekicks rockin fly kicks
Honeys want to chat
But all we wanna know is "Where the party at?"
And can i bring my gat?
If not, I hope I don't get shot
But i throw my vest on my chest
'Cause niggaz is a mess
It don't take nothin' but frontin'
For me to start somethin'
Buggin' and barkin' at niggaz like i was duck huntin'
Dumbing out, just me and my crew
Cause all we wanna do is...
and the Jay Z song was on
and the Jay Z song was on
Party... And bullshit, and... (x9)
So I put my hands up
They're playing my song,
And the butterflys fly away
Noddin' my head like yeah
Moving my hips like yeah,
And I got my hands up,
They're playin my song
I know I'm gonna be ok
Yeah, It's a party in the USA
Hugs from the honeys, Pounds from the roughnecks
Seen my man Sei that I knew from the projects
Said he had beef, asked me if I had my peice
Sure do, two .22's in my shoes
Holler if you need me love i'm in the house
Roam and strollin' see what the honeys is about
Moet popping, hoe hopping, ain't no stopping Big Poppa, I'm a BAD BOY
Niggaz wanna front, who got your back?
Niggaz wanna flex, who got the gat?
It ain't hard to tell I'm the east coast overdoser
Nigga you scared you're supposed to
Nigga I told ya, put fear in your heart
Fuck up the party before it even start
Pissy drunk, off the Henny and skunk
Or some brand-nubian shit beatin' down punks!
So I put my hands up
They're playing my song,
And the butterflys fly away
Noddin' my head like yeah
Moving my hips like yeah,
And I got my hands up,
They're playin my song
I know I'm gonna be ok
Yeah, It's a party in the USA
Bitches in the back looking righteous
In a tight dress, i think i might just
Hit her with a little Biggie 101, How to tote a gun
And have fun with Jamaican rum
Conversations, blunts in rotation
My man Big Jacques got the glock in his waist and
we're smoking, drinking, got the hooker thinking
If money smell bad than this nigga Biggie stinking
Is it my charm? I got the hookers eatin out my palm
She grabbed my arm and said "Let's leave calm"
I'm hittin' skins again
Rolled up another blunt, bought a Heineken
Niggaz start to loke out, a kid got choked out
Blows was thrown and a fucking fight broke out
Can't we just all get along?
So i can put hickies on her chest like Li'l Shawn
Get her pissy drunk off of Don Perrignon
And it's on, and I'm gone
that's that.
Party... and Bullshit
and Party... and Bullshit
and Party... and Bullshit
and Party... and Bullshit
And Party, Party.