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WHERE THE PARTY AT? Video (MV)






Mike Dimes - WHERE THE PARTY AT? Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Duke Deuce ]

I got rips up in these denim jeans like, woo
Got that bass, I never shot your mans, I gotta get paid
Who is you askin' questions, second guessin'?
You get shot, and we keep on blastin', f*ckin' nasty
Yeah, uh, uh (Mike Dimes, nigga)

Spent a cool couple racks to get me icy (icy)
And I'm like, "Ooh, I see why they wanna fight me"
Baby girl, you was just my ho, you ain't my wifey
In my world, I got lotta bitches wantin' Mike D (okay), here we go
I'ma spend a couple hunnid bucks to get Camp Billy up (on gang)
I'm f*ckin' up the industry, ten mill' without a dealie, bruh
Lately I been sober, I ain't tryna f*ck the vision up (nah)
So money is the mission, the respect, I did not give a f*ck
Like, ooh, "Who this nigga, bruh?" Huh? Please don't talk to me
Ben Franklin, call me Michael, you ain't him, call me properly
Mucho dinero got me eatin' on steak and broccoli (on gang)
Don't tell my homie 'bout your music, that shit ain't knockin', G
Mike Dimes turn a simple party to a anthem
Ransom, niggas hear my shit and put they hands up
Bands up, everything I say gon' get my bands up
I get it crackin' off instrumentals in the stand, yeah

Drug dealers, hoop ballers, pop singers, shot callers
Where the party at? (Uh, ayy, ayy)
Head knockers, pill poppers, show stoppers, real niggas (what the f*ck?)
Where the party at? Where the party at, nigga? Ayy (yeah, yeah)

Uh, bitch, it ain't a party 'til white bitches flashin' their titties (huh?)
I'm crackin' up off that Red Bull with that Martell mixed up in it
(With that Martell mixed up in it, what? Ayy)
(What?) huh? (What?) Got me moshin' on you bitches (mosh)
(Ayy, ayy, ayy, security comin', calm down)
F*ck security, bitch, we trippin'
Tryna sleep up on the king, ho, I'm what the game been missin' (ayy, ayy)
Most you rappers watchin' me, they bite my style but never mention
Hardest nigga out my city but they sleep because I'm different (I'm different)
And I'ma keep on stompin' on your bitches 'til they feel me (what?)

Drug dealers, hoop ballers, pop singers, shot callers (what?)
Where the party at? (Uh, where it's at? What?)
Head knockers, pill poppers, show stoppers, real niggas (huh?)
Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at, nigga? Ayy

Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at? (What?)
Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at? (What?)
Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at? (What?)
Where the party at? (What?) Bitch, where the party at? (Ho)
What the f*ck?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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I got rips up in these denim jeans like, woo
Got that bass, I never shot your mans, I gotta get paid
Who is you askin' questions, second guessin'?
You get shot, and we keep on blastin', f*ckin' nasty
Yeah, uh, uh (Mike Dimes, nigga)

Spent a cool couple racks to get me icy (icy)
And I'm like, "Ooh, I see why they wanna fight me"
Baby girl, you was just my ho, you ain't my wifey
In my world, I got lotta bitches wantin' Mike D (okay), here we go
I'ma spend a couple hunnid bucks to get Camp Billy up (on gang)
I'm f*ckin' up the industry, ten mill' without a dealie, bruh
Lately I been sober, I ain't tryna f*ck the vision up (nah)
So money is the mission, the respect, I did not give a f*ck
Like, ooh, "Who this nigga, bruh?" Huh? Please don't talk to me
Ben Franklin, call me Michael, you ain't him, call me properly
Mucho dinero got me eatin' on steak and broccoli (on gang)
Don't tell my homie 'bout your music, that shit ain't knockin', G
Mike Dimes turn a simple party to a anthem
Ransom, niggas hear my shit and put they hands up
Bands up, everything I say gon' get my bands up
I get it crackin' off instrumentals in the stand, yeah

Drug dealers, hoop ballers, pop singers, shot callers
Where the party at? (Uh, ayy, ayy)
Head knockers, pill poppers, show stoppers, real niggas (what the f*ck?)
Where the party at? Where the party at, nigga? Ayy (yeah, yeah)

Uh, bitch, it ain't a party 'til white bitches flashin' their titties (huh?)
I'm crackin' up off that Red Bull with that Martell mixed up in it
(With that Martell mixed up in it, what? Ayy)
(What?) huh? (What?) Got me moshin' on you bitches (mosh)
(Ayy, ayy, ayy, security comin', calm down)
F*ck security, bitch, we trippin'
Tryna sleep up on the king, ho, I'm what the game been missin' (ayy, ayy)
Most you rappers watchin' me, they bite my style but never mention
Hardest nigga out my city but they sleep because I'm different (I'm different)
And I'ma keep on stompin' on your bitches 'til they feel me (what?)

Drug dealers, hoop ballers, pop singers, shot callers (what?)
Where the party at? (Uh, where it's at? What?)
Head knockers, pill poppers, show stoppers, real niggas (huh?)
Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at, nigga? Ayy

Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at? (What?)
Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at? (What?)
Where the party at? (Huh?) Where the party at? (What?)
Where the party at? (What?) Bitch, where the party at? (Ho)
What the f*ck?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Campbell Rolston-Clemmer, Danny Snodgrass Jr., John Carolus, Michael Goode Jr., Michael Romito, Patavious Isom, Ryder Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

Back to: Mike Dimes

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