Letras
We got nothing to lose
We got nothing to prove
We got something to move
When you feeling the groove
Come on
Nobody move
Nobody get hurt
Attention
When me putting in work
Extravaganza
Cavs under and under
Me like Robin Hood the hunter
Seeking sensimilla
Yes we'll be seeing ya
TV or media
First we'll be loving ya
Then we'll be leaving ya
You never heard that King Cas preferred
Me never stop me still putting in work
Me never hate to rub ya face in the dirt
For real
Rocking the realness since these styles were heard
Travel on the migration
Birds, Amsterdam
Been to Montego Bay
Some face off baby jam
Rock the same stage
As the Godfather Bam
Produce me up a track
And Luciano called Stan
Live in Aotearoa aka New Zealand
Me got Samoan parents
So me a Samoan man
Brothers sisters all across the land
Yo you gotta gotta gotta clap ya hands
Come on
Clap ya hands everybody
Everybody just clap ya hands
Like that like that like that
We got nothing to lose
We got nothing to prove
We got something to move
When you feeling the groove
Come on
Nobody move
Nobody get hurt
Attention
When me putting in work
Me got a network
With track hit like bombs really
Me like a terrorist
Got to bomb the stage hear me
This ain't no amateur
Never been no scavenger
Cap slam like Slazenger
Target 'bout to damage ya
Who's been preparing ya
We no ever fearing ya
Rhymes hot they searing ya
We no ever cheering ya
Stuff them other cat talk
Like them prophet
We rock this microphone
High like a rocket
South Pacific party people
Be the topic
Party party people
Have you got it
Clap ya hands everybody
Everybody just clap ya hands
Like that like that like that
What we gon' do
What we gon' do
What we gon' do
Just clap back at you
What we gon' do
What we gon' do
What we gon' do
What we gon' do
What we gon' do
Just clap back at you
What we gon' do
What we gon' do
Clap ya hands everybody
Everybody just clap ya hands
Like that like that like that
Clap ya hands everybody
Everybody just clap ya hands
Like that like that like that