World’s Fair & Jeff Donna & Cody B. Ware & Nasty Nigel & Remy Banks
World’s Fair
World’s Fair & Lansky Jones & & Prince Samo & Nasty Nigel & Remy Banks
World’s Fair & Jeff Donna & Cody B. Ware & Prince Samo & Nasty Nigel
World’s Fair & Jeff Donna & Cody B. Ware & Prince Samo & Remy Banks
World’s Fair & Prince Samo & Cody B. Ware & Children of the Night
This song is the title track for the World’s Fair collective album, Bastards of the Party. World’s Fair is a group filled with diverse rap style, but all share the common interest of hardcore partying, made apparent here.
[Intro]
Look, I told Shorty I never heard of Cupid, had a one night stand with who Medusa used to be, and I paved the way for Lotharios and do some phantasmagoria upon every chromosome. - - - Party tonight?
[Hook] (x8)
It's your party! We at your party screaming "fuck your party!"
[Verse 1: Nasty Nigel]
I slide through the door, with E&J, that's company for my liver
3 or 4 for the guest spots, I just don't give a
Thought I wouldn't [?] your function without my niggas
Catch us in your green room, drinking up your liquor
Out here, our reputation is Queens, fucking your shit up
Got the hiccups, on the richter, after frame-knocking your picture
[Verse 2: Prince SAMO]
Leather jackets all zippered up, fuck around and get zippered up
Just a grown-ass man sipping liquor out of sippy cups
Bastards of the party, where's my father, nigga I don't know
I'm fucking up the party that you corny niggas down to go
Fuck around, shut it down, fat bitch bend over, bustin' out
Finna bust an ounce, till her pussy wide open
Skeet so much, they call her Billy Ocean
Then I'm the bad- ass- bully- gone- wild- as-
[?], slapping security, swinging billy clubs
This your party? We at your party screaming "fuck your party"
That's your father? I'll fight your father screaming "fuck your father"
[Verse 3: Cody B. Ware]
I keep my mind twisted like double dutch, this horny [?], I'd love to bust
Fantastic, magic, super savage, average crews can't fuck with us
Get the cold shoulder, no jacket off, in pumps, I'm fast to ball
Kobe fur all mastadon, could you picture our triathlon?
[Verse 4: Jeff Donna]
Have to ask your mom, young vagabond, gone before she wake up
You're friend bout to get ate up, and its late out, don't wait up
You better pay up, I be in the cut and the life of the party still
Trynna make a ho faint, if I show restraint, cause your bitches hardly will
What up?
[Hook] (x8)
B.O.T.P. was produced by SPVCE.