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