You say you hear me knockin'
So why you don't wanna let me in?
But I ain't buggin', So tell the cops to come and get me then
Complain about my shoes, ain't really talkin' 'bout shit
Dude, I spent like three hundred and fifty on this outfit
NV ain't gon' let me in, zen actin' funny with me
What it's gon' cost me, homie?
I brought a little money with me
I don't wear tight shirts, my pants kinda baggy
KC hat tilted, so now they wanna red flag me
I'm by the bar every time, point blank, Period
The door man hatin', takin' his job too serious
Me, Cash Image, Tech and Kaliko about big business
So what I'm talkin to a bouncer for?
The woman see me, Scream my name like announcers, bro
They actin' brand new this week
So I'm about to go to the block and bubble and get plenty cake
I just wanted woman and I don't like this club anyway
So fuck y'all!
I get money from music, Kinda like to spend-spend
When I hit the town, I know they gonna let me ends in
But these other clubs be trippin' like I begin sin
You hear me knockin'? (Oh yeah)
Well let me in then
Cause NV ain't so friendly
They got a gay assembly of femmes
Who think the blacks be packin' Semi's
(That's why they don't sell no Henny)
Stink butts who think bucks
But they don't know my bank account is like a Brinks truck
Could buy it any day
Two poin one on a new building and lease 'em and the N9ne has plenty say
The rhyme, it give me pay
So I resign cause NV gay
And plus NV stands for no vagina's anyway
That place, Me and Lil' Weezy-Wee get no love
That's why when I brought Chingy in there
He peed in your club, not in the toilet either
You don't enjoy the beaver
You'd rather plot on how to get below your boy, The Peter
America's Club and Fase 2, I erase you
My pants are too baggy even though I'm clean and I'm paid too
Orlando South's racist, they treated me cold
And Lucky Strike and Power & Light won't let the N9ne in to bowl
Whoa, guess my Dickies the wrong clothes
Play my music but won't let me and my homies through the doors
Over a million records sold, Lot's of money to fold
They should let me in any club in KC, MO!
And I'm the biggest tipper, bartenders know me well
And waitress's love me, so club owners go to hell!
You got that blow to sell but you want this bro to fail
But it really ain't me 'cause it is your destiny to go to jail
And when you're though servin
You might see work on Club N9ne
When you walk up, you might be hurt
You might skeet-skirt cause you ain't gettin' in
If you ain't got KC hat and a white t-shirt, aye!