Lyrics

DJ Khaled Ft Yo Gotti, YG, Rick Ross & Future – Fuck Up the Club Lyrics

Updated

Tuesday, November 5, 2024

Mpo SA

Fuck up the Club is the ninth track off of DJ Khaled’s ninth studio album, Major Key. Khaled brings together a dream team of artists, as YG and Yo Gotti make their lone appearances on the album, while Future (fourth track) and Rick Ross (second track) return from previous tracks on Major Key.

Future, YG, and Yo Gotti all aided in writing the song, while Khaled protégé Kent Jones also helped write and produce the track.

Fuck Up the Club Lyrics by DJ Khaled Ft Yo Gotti, YG, Rick Ross & Future

[Intro: Future & DJ Khaled]
Yeah! This that ’63 AMG Ghost music
It’s that Ace of Spade, girl and it’s toast music
Nigga let’s toast to it
DJ Khaled!

[Chorus: Future]
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
And you better bring your whole crew
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
Yes any time you want to
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Boss
305 on my plates, a nigga still sellin’ weight
Still tippin’ them scales, I’m Ross, fit in the Wraith
They want too much for the taxes, I got my money in walls
I got all the bitches, nigga I got all the sauce
No reason I should lose, the leaders of the new
Got on a couple chains, toy bands and tennis shoes
Got on my Vacheron, Belaire, my bottles come
Talkin’ menage a trois, shawty let’s have some fun
Bellos at Wimbledon, hell of a gentleman
There is no bigger boss, if so then send ‘em in
I’m talkin’ numbers, nigga, I’ve never fumbled, nigga
Standin’ on a ball ballin’ and I do it when I want it, nigga

[Verse 2: YG]
4Hunnid! 4Hunnid, Hunnid!
Young nigga, young nigga, got a gun, run nigga
Painted all the rivers red, this blood shit stuck with him
Hustle hard, hustle hard, bad bitches, fuck ’em all
Businessman, businessman, always tryna cut the costs
That’s photos, that’s more dough
Maybachs for everybody, nigga, squad goals
Flex on ’em, they’re like, “Uh oh!”
Entourage, entourage, pullin’ up in four 4-doors
West coast, that’s my shit, 4Hunnid, that’s my clique
Last nigga that beat the pussy up, well, um, that’s my bitch
I don’t give no fucks, I don’t give no fucks
40 bands, just blew in the club, oh well, nigga, so what?

[Verse 3: Yo Gotti]
Aces comin’ by the 12 pack, young nigga in a Hellcat
GPS on the pack, tell the plug they can mail that
Tell the plug they can mail that, young nigga, I’ma sell that
Mouth closed, I’ll never talk
Won’t say a word and went to jail that
Sauce drippin’, I’ll fuck ’em up, .40 on me ’til I cough it up
Big Gotti, I’m bossin’ up
If it’s under a hunnid it don’t cost enough
Tearin’ clubs up like Three Six
I be tearin’ plugs up, that’s that street shit
I be fuckin’ boss bitches, they don’t need shit
Tell me, where my boss bitches who don’t need shit?
Yeah, these diamonds, not rhinestones
Trap jumpin’, yeah the line long
All this money got my mind gone
All this money got my mind gone
[Chorus: Future]
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
And you better bring your whole crew
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
We just gon’ fuck up the club, baby, fuck up the club, baby
Yes any time you want to