"Club Hoppin" - DJ Dada

[Verse 1] Comin' through this club, You know my shooters got in the back, If that's yo girl, you know she finna ditch a scrub. She lookin' at me, you know she want these racks, At the VIP table man, you know we sippin' Bub' Bricks stuffed in this backpack, Wanna be on the team, but there ain't no love. Fuckin' with us and you know we finna blast. Throwin' all these faces, everyone else comin' in last. [Interlude] She lookin' at me, desperately, for this rack. Fuckin' with us and you know we finna blast. [Verse 2] Gettin' Money is all that we know, Tryna be like this, we'll call yo ass a clone. Watchin' yo girl go up and down this pole, She make me want to throw the whole stack, it's out of my control, Every time we roll through, you know we get it poppin', They try to understand, how we ain't stoppin', Step to this and you know you gunna find trauma, Shit nobody ever told me that was yo baby mama, [Verse 3] Another club, another ho, another way to throw this stack. So much money in the air, it's damn-near pitch-black. DJ Dada on the track man you know this shit slaps. Step to him and you know you finna get smacked. So many nine's in the club, we came in with the snubs, you know we takin' dubs. Pockets so fat, all this money guaranteed. Gettin' this bread is all we ever need. Lamar Jackson, scramble to the bag. We do it so well, they can't even throw the flag!