We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

Oh, Mama, can this really be the end To be stuck inside of Mobile With the Memphis blues again Oh, the ragman draws circles Up and down the block I’d ask him what the matter was But I know that he don’t talk And the ladies treat me kindly And they

Turn the key, turn the volume up to loud Roll right, roll every window down Let the whole block know what this is about That beat is hot This is how it goes Welcome one and all to the show

Posted on the corner like a trapper (uh) Why he move his hands all around like a rapper (uh) To the block—to—to—to—to—to the block Why he move his pants up and down like the scrapper (uh) My whole life I just wanted to be a rapper Then I grew'd and the

Can't keep my hands to myself My hands to myself Keep making love to each other All of the downs and the uppers You're metaphorical gin and juice And I'm trying, trying, I'm trying, trying And I'm trying, trying, I'm trying, but I I want it all, no,

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

And the rain fell down And the phone kept ringing And we made sweet love Follow it up in this strange grey town It was a filthy block of flats Trash was on the floor A stink was in my nose Hinges off the doors She took me in her room

Slaughter Gang shit, Murder Gang shit I'm on that Slaughter Gang shit, Murder Gang shit I pull up roll the window down and I just bought a pistol it got 30 rounds in it Pull up at yo momma house and put some rounds in it Wet a nigga block and watch them