Party Crasher Lyrics

[Intro: club bouncer]

Aww shit... not these niggaz again!
Aiyyo listen!
I'm only lettin five of you motherf**kers in here tonight
If your man ain't on the guest list
He get to the BACJ of the f**kin line
And you know another motherf**kin thing?
I don't give a f**k if a bitch spill a drink
in this motherf**ker tonight
I'm kickin ALL y'all the f**k outta here

[Method Man]
Muh'f**kers be up in the club scared to f**kin death
Nigga if you scared why don't yo' ass just stay the f**k home
Check it out uhh

Me and mines at the door, ain't tryin to pay your fees
Stop playin, you f**kin with me, I push my way in
Bum rush there's plenty of us to tear the club up
Guzzlin Bacardi and such, I split a Dutch
Bouncin nigga lookin like he want war
Now I ain't the one you got to front Pah
Pattin me down like the law
As I stumble in the party
Topsey off the Limon Bacardi for sure
Loungin near the bar section, rolled the L
and kept steppin, concealed weapon, razor sharp
Blue star hatchet, in the sleeve of my jacket
Who that kid, on the dance floor lookin for matches?
Burn somethin, one toke got me blasted
Took another toke then I passed it, choke!
Fantastic, herb ain't no joke
Especially that indo smoke mixed with hashish
Ladies on the dance floor, shakin they asses
Got millon dollar broke niggaz, that makin passes
Honey with the eye glasses, body work is Boombastic
Skin like blackberry molasses, mmmmm
At last it's, time to step and make her mine
Niggas headin toward the bathroom tuckin they shines
Brothers got to keep it movin, playin with kids
that won't hesitate to snatch a Cuban
You know what this is...

("Yo Duke that's your diamonds right there God?
Yo that shit'll go RIGHT where my people ain't right now.."
"Yo don't touch my shit!")

Now it's on in the lavatory, I heard a scream
End of story couldn't find shorty, party scene's
now a f**ked up chaotic thing, won't be long
before the sirens intervene, the terrotory
Can't we all get along, without the ruckus
Got big bouncin muh'f**kers, tryin to rush us
I can take a hint, what? Can smell the stench
of a hell bent environment, the odds against us
Back to the wall y'all, refuse to fall
All hands on deck yes, prepare to brawl
Uhh, every time I try to have a good time why?
Somebody always f**kin it up, killin my high, damn
Monkey wrench they whole program, party over
By that time I'm dead sober
In the midst of this whole shit fo' soldiers, dead gone
You can tell that they was heat holders
Everybody hit the deck when they expose tech, I fled the set
Bitch slipped and caught a broke neck, some Brooklyn kids
rushed the coat check, they whole set, stompin Duke
half to death and took his Rolex, it's horrible
Like a front page
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Songwriter(s): Derrick R. L. Harris, Robert F. Diggs, Clifford Ray Smith
Copyright: Wu Tang Publishing Inc., Ramecca Publishing Inc., Universal Music - Careers, Wonderboy Publishing
Record Label(s): 1998 Def Jam Recordings
Official lyrics by

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