Toosii - Club House [Official Music Video]

Watch the official video for Toosii's "Club House."

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Club House Lyrics:

[Hook]
One, two, three straps inside my clubhouse
Four, five, six fuck round we air the club out
Only niggas wit white tees inside my clubhouse
You can’t be around if you ain’t never shut the club down
Bitch I be wit all them niggas who really wit that
Catch a body, that’s my body, ain’t got to split that
Bust his brains we’ll give a nigga a shit bag
My X be tryna talk, I tell her O we playing tic tac, toe
She got a thing for them shooters, know we on go
Wack seven, eight, nine of they niggas, to up the sco’ Maybe ten, eleven, twelve
Give me thirteen reasons he shouldn’t go to hell
[Verse 1]
Pardon my step but I get violent
New ice I can change the climate
I know stones in Chicago
New car hit the road, no mileage
Everytime we pop out in they section like you cocky
Bitch I heard what you said
Ain’t gotta ask me if I copy
They know, all this shit get rocky like Balboa
Bitch I never dance, I do my jigg, I tear the flo’ up
Don’t ask me if I’m fuckin wit that hoe
You know she to’ up
They say my city been waiting for a nigga like me to blow up
I tell her to grow up
We go out we go up
My whole life projectile like it’s throw up
Don’t tell me what you gone do nigga
You must not know us
You can play the bench lil nigga
That wasn’t for us
[Hook]
One, two, three straps inside my clubhouse
Four, five, six fuck round we air the club out
Only niggas wit white tees inside my clubhouse
You can’t be around if you ain’t never shut the club down
Bitch I be wit all them niggas who really wit that Catch a body, that’s my body, ain’t got to split that Bust his brains we’ll give a nigga a shit bag

My X be tryna talk, I tell her O we playing tic tac, toe
She got a thing for them shooters, know we on go
Wack seven, eight, nine of they niggas, to up the sco’
Maybe ten, eleven, twelve
Give me thirteen reasons he shouldn’t go to hell
[Verse 2]
You could call yo top shoota
We’ll spin the block, shoot em
I ain’t never shot a cop
But bitch I be wit cop shootas
My lil homie off the grid
He popped the lid and top to em
His mama been begging me to call his phone and talk to em
Still cold like yesterday
Keep a pole like yesterday
I won’t even gone fuck on that hoe
But I told her yes today
Finger fuck the trigger bitch
I had a lil sex today
I ain’t tryna be boo’d up bitch I ain’t Ella Mai
Cold Stone new freezer
ARP, new heater
My brother my brother pouring wock inside a two liter
Summer come around, bitch I gotta cop some new beaters
They say I’m hot cause a nigga ride around wit two heaters
[Hook]
One, two, three straps inside my clubhouse
Four, five, six fuck round we air the club out
Only niggas wit white tees inside my clubhouse
You can’t be around if you ain’t never shut the club down
Bitch I be wit all them niggas who really wit that
Catch a body, that’s my body, ain’t got to split that
Bust his brains we’ll give a nigga a shit bag
My X be tryna talk, I tell her oh we playing tic tac, toe
She got a thing for them shooters, know we on go
Wack seven, eight, nine of they niggas, to up the sco’
Maybe ten, eleven, twelve
Give me thirteen reasons he shouldn’t go to hell