Whoo!Come onAll the pretty ladies just clap your handsClap your hands, clap your handsAll the pretty ladies just clap your handsI just got some news todayEverything I wished for came my wayLove and peace and big moneyMore new members in the familyHaters finally dropped their gunsWasn't loaded anyway, scared no oneWent from ten bodyguards to noneIf they don't read, then posse no funBut here come Calibama talkin' mo' stuffGuess a hundred million records ain't enoughAll-Stars are comin' from the first to lastAnybody don't canStay quiet while I bring the noiseWe just got some brand new toysIf y'all ready just show me loveWatch Calibama get buggedUh, all the pretty ladies just clap your handsAll the funky brothers dance to my bandHa, NPG cuttin' up your rugUh, watch Calibama get buggedVerbal coat in flatteryDrum machine electricityEvery time I look I seeAnother facsimilePick and drumstick not in handSee no music on the standGrab your partner, gather 'roundThis is how we all get downWhoo! All the pretty ladies just clap your handsAll the funky brothers dance to my bandNPG, NPG cuttin' up your rugUh, lawd, watch Calibama get buggedCome onHornsHornsLike a rim shot on a New Roots jointMy band's tight, yeahAnointed, all naturalPass my tape, go straight to jailAnd another thing, when I singBlack and white hold handsStart clappin' when we enter the jamBack dance if you wanna just clap your handsHere we come, y'all, uhPrisoner BandGood GodAll the pretty ladies just clap your handsAll the funky brothers dance to my bandUh, New Power G, yeah, we got a new drugHere we come, y'all, Prisoner BandLook outHappy 'cause we just got paidFree from all contractsChillin' in the shade of the sun's lightOh, we got it rightDistribute your own, make a mil' overnightBefore the tax come, quick buy some landDon't build nothin', just clap your handsDon't build nothin', just clap your handsHere we come, y'all, uhPrisoner BandHa, Prisoner BandOh, hear me nowRecord labels used to be a friend of mineNow they're just a monumental waste of timeSell a million records, make a dollar a popYou're still on recruit when your band get droppedGot your own label but you're givin' 'em halfExpenses off the top, who's takin' a bath?Seven years of grind like it's only your nameIs what you pay to keep yourself a slave to that gameAnd what you can't do alone is not worth the fameAll of y'all get older but I still look the sameToo funky, y'all can't understandJust clap your hands, just clap your handsUh, the Prisoner Band
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All the pretty ladies just clap your hands
Clap your hands, clap your hands
All the pretty ladies just clap your hands
I just got some news today
Everything I wished for came my way
Love and peace and big money
More new members in the family
Haters finally dropped their guns
Wasn't loaded anyway, scared no one
Went from ten bodyguards to none
If they don't read, then posse no fun
But here come Calibama talkin' mo' stuff
Guess a hundred million records ain't enough
All-Stars are comin' from the first to last
Anybody don't can
Stay quiet while I bring the noise
We just got some brand new toys
If y'all ready just show me love
Watch Calibama get bugged
Uh, all the pretty ladies just clap your hands
All the funky brothers dance to my band
Ha, NPG cuttin' up your rug
Uh, watch Calibama get bugged
Verbal coat in flattery
Drum machine electricity
Every time I look I see
Another facsimile
Pick and drumstick not in hand
See no music on the stand
Grab your partner, gather 'round
This is how we all get down
Whoo! All the pretty ladies just clap your hands
All the funky brothers dance to my band
NPG, NPG cuttin' up your rug
Uh, lawd, watch Calibama get bugged
Come on
Horns
Horns
Like a rim shot on a New Roots joint
My band's tight, yeah
Anointed, all natural
Pass my tape, go straight to jail
And another thing, when I sing
Black and white hold hands
Start clappin' when we enter the jam
Back dance if you wanna just clap your hands
Here we come, y'all, uh
Prisoner Band
Good God
All the pretty ladies just clap your hands
All the funky brothers dance to my band
Uh, New Power G, yeah, we got a new drug
Here we come, y'all, Prisoner Band
Look out
Happy 'cause we just got paid
Free from all contracts
Chillin' in the shade of the sun's light
Oh, we got it right
Distribute your own, make a mil' overnight
Before the tax come, quick buy some land
Don't build nothin', just clap your hands
Don't build nothin', just clap your hands
Here we come, y'all, uh
Prisoner Band
Ha, Prisoner Band
Oh, hear me now
Record labels used to be a friend of mine
Now they're just a monumental waste of time
Sell a million records, make a dollar a pop
You're still on recruit when your band get dropped
Got your own label but you're givin' 'em half
Expenses off the top, who's takin' a bath?
Seven years of grind like it's only your name
Is what you pay to keep yourself a slave to that game
And what you can't do alone is not worth the fame
All of y'all get older but I still look the same
Too funky, y'all can't understand
Just clap your hands, just clap your hands
Uh, the Prisoner Band
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