[Intro: T.I.]
Guess, who's, back, home!

[Verse 1: T.I.]
G shit, certified, n***a can’t touch him
Bosses all love him, haters, well fuck them
Bought cribs everywhere, everything custom
"Lun-bun-ton", bougie bitches like "What’s them?"
Solitaire clear stones, Maybach: clear dome
Blowing on that loud-pack, bankroll's full-grown
Well-known convict: go on with the dumb shit
Thug life with it, like it tatted on my stomach
N***a better pick another number because I am not the one
The bigger picture's what's important before all is said and done
I bet I get this shit back up under my feet
Bullshit aside, what I want, I keep
I’m the big bad wolf, and I want my sheep
Your birthday cake, I want my piece
I’m beefing with MCs if, to me
It seems they’re less than decent
I’m a beast, then you’re my feast
Apologies, you just can't keep it
Say you’re winning?
Guess you’re being condescending and facetious
Gs from sea to shining sea
You may bump this in your Caprices! Bow!
[Verse 2: Yelawolf]
Yeah, I once had a friend named Charlie
And Charlie was always late to school (School)
He had a black eye one day
But he wouldn’t say just what happened to him (To)
Charlie got mad in class one day
And stood up with a .22 pistol
Told everybody that he couldn’t take it anymore
He was over being the victim
See, one bullet through the wall
And the history class was interrupted
Charlie fell down in a pool of blood in the class
That made it public
He said that the bullies in school
They drove him to be a suicidal
'Cause the mirrors didn’t reflect the criteria
Of an American Idol
Well, sometimes, I feel like I could run
Through the hallways with an AK, too
Not saying that I would
But it might feel good to off me a rapper or two, so
I loaded this pen with a hollow tip
And I followed Tip
To the hollow pits of my heart for shit
For you to role model with
Take a fifth of Jack and swallow it
Take a point shell and hollow it
Don’t be the one with the gun
Be the one with the rum, plus two models with
All the kids, listen up
Yelawolf don’t give a fuck about a club
I don’t wanna see you in school, tryna do what I do
Telling folks you gon’ pop the trunk
Make something of something
Or something from nothing, baby, wake up
Play Radioactive, let me see the reaction
See if I really give a fuck. Shady!
[Chorus: Lil Jon & (Yelawolf)]
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, (Still don’t give a fuck!)

[Verse 3: Crooked I]
Ugh, nine millimeter, ride with a heater, drive with a liter
I’m finna need a mic and a speaker
I’m finna be the prominent leader, confidence-eater
Tell competition, “Hasta la vista” (Oww!)
Dog, you putting my name in the middle of sucker shit
Is something like you getting raped by a stranger
'Cause you do not know who you fucking with (Yeah)
Crooked is a product of the S-L-A-U-G-H-T-E-R
You "haha"-funny, I had money when the DVD was a VCR
N***as about to need CPR when they see the car, kill 'em, dead
Might pull over, fuck my chauffeur
'Cause I screw drivers—Phillips head
Them I’ma tell her to take me to Yela
Getting fucked up, I ain't feeling embarrassed
The feeling in the air is the 2.0's party
Like n***as and wiggas in Paris (Ahh!)

[Verse 4: Royce da 5'9"]
Nickel Nine, a rider, arriving at the drama
The driver firing the llama (Blaow!)
Got a bunch of fine bitches saying "Hi" to me now
'Cause a n***a said "Hi" to Rihanna (Hi!)
'Cause I look good, and I smell good
It’s a man’s world! (Woo...)
That's right, I’m the new James Brown
Drunk in an interview, fuck you finna do? (Nothing)
What I’m finna do is go to the strip club and order eight bricks
(What you doing?) I’m on my T.I.P. in A-T-L
Lookin for a lil' pretty young thing I can skate with
(Where we goin baby?)
Radioactive, Shady gon' make it go platinum, I couldn’t resist
To jump on that Slaughterhouse, Yelawolf
Lil Jon, "Hard White" remix!
[Chorus: Lil Jon & (Yelawolf)]
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, (Still don’t give a fuck!)

[Verse 5: Joell Ortiz]
Ugh! Lil Jon, let me get a lil' bit
I mean a minute, nothin’ crazy, it’s just that I’ma lyricist
And I’ve been sittin’ with this ridiculous venomous bite
And I’m ssssso ready to strike, a swing and a miss!
My dick swing in your miss
I got a missile, can’t call it, I might misdial
I’m in orbit, listening to Em’s last album
Guzzling gin: recovering alcoholic! (Ha!)
Everything looking all right
Welcome to the lyricist pub, who wanna bar fight?
In a bar so high cause you're dealing
With four dope motherfuckers and two hard whites
Deuces, period, crop circle
That's the family that matters, I’m not Urkel
But I’m smooth as Stefon when I move to snap on
Your eyeball, your shit’ll look purple (Ow!)
I’m a product of the PJ’s (Yeah!)
Still walk through that motherfucker in my PJs
Yeah, I’m in J.P. Morgan often but
Don’t think I could get chased out the PJs
So try me, punk, bet your body jump
When this shotty pumps, have your body slumped
Yelawolf let me rip this hard white, but (Ugh)
Please don't make me pop the trunk

[Verse 6: Joe Budden]
(Joe!) Roll that window down and start dumping
Pull up on whatever block that y'all on
Pills got a n***a walking round doing stupid shit
My definition of an oxymoron
That ain't never stop me from getting a bad one
I would tell n***as again but they heard the story
Furthermore, he got a couple I ain't bust
But there's no need to rush, they reserved it for me
See I’m all about fam, I don’t fuck with the rest
Goon’s that’ll squeeze 'til a couple is left
The squad, the facade, the sm-smoke and mirrors (Ugh, ugh)
Yellin' "Payback!", too broke to cover the debt
But I’m grown, adults, and whether that shit you say
You don’t reciprocate love or respect
You get plugged, and you gon' need doctors
To cover your holes as if they never loaded cassettes (Ayy!)
You probably didn’t hear me, standing on the couch
Get froggy, I'm breaking any bottle that's near me (Ugh)
So real I don’t need a hollow to prepare me
I’m the first one in the hood to catch a body using Siri
'Cause they be thinking that I seem crazy
Money-motivated, CREAM make me (Ugh)
Way out your league, go and dream, maybe
T.I., Team Shady

[Chorus: Lil Jon & (Yelawolf)]
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, don’t give a fuck
Up in the club, (Still don’t give a fuck!)