Fold Em Up

Fold em up
Got a storm brewing in my cup
Need the coins, imma run it up
Bring it back, finna boss it up
Yeah imma boss it up

Hold it up
The backends clean, tryna say wassup
Pull it back, action fuck it up
Lacking cash, but that's over us
I'm sayin fuck with us

New guitar cost about a couple thou
This beat wild so I'm asking M3 how
Squeezing out the cash like we're tryna milk a cow
Think we got another sound, freshest out of any town

Fresher than your local clown
Bred a storm, we'll run em out
Moving forward with no doubt
From the north but now we south

Country shit

Keep the lambo, I got the camel
Devil can't catch me
Keep the doe, I don't need ammo
I'll just fast g

Sweeping the desert Qerba on my shoulder
Feeding on the culture beaming at night
Oh it's getting colder
Gas in the trunk, everybody vibin'
Gas in the trunk, everybody ridin'
Moonshine drunk uh
Gun shots, everybody hiding

Everybody riding, tents are rising
Tea is on the pot, Bedouin wilding
Bitch I got them goats, so I'm thriving
Playing on your thinking I'm the market
Middle eastern so I hit that target
Oil money, who's funny, no honey
Dope tracks, big packs, big stacks
Yeah that's the target, khalas

Listen

The consequence of my confidence
My accomplishments, smooth as moccasins
That's the obvious, I ride rocketships
But I'm no economist, I know a lot of this
I keep promises, you make abolishments
Promise me you'll be on my side, you're my remedy
I'll spread your message like peanut butter, celery
There's no jealousy, I just know I'm superior
You try to break me, but can't get past my exterior

You see me goin brainless, my fridge is on stainless
It's better livin shameless, you tend to lose your patience
I know you, you'll never be on the A-list
Halftime, hot take, hot garbage
I could put all of your thoughts in a cartridge
I've waited for one to take these bars out of storage
I'm a bear man, that's my porridge

Fold em up
Got a storm brewing in my cup
Need the coins, imma run it up
Bring it back, finna boss it up
Yeah imma boss it up

Hold it up
The backends clean, tryna say wassup
Pull it back, action fuck it up
Lacking cash, but that's over us
I'm sayin fuck with us

Hoppin' off the mustang
We been steady working coming up man
Yeah yeah
Using more of my brain
6 shooter in my holster, it provide pain
Yeah yeah
Run up on my gang oooh
You might make this choppa sang
Yeah yeah
BRED got too much sauce
We might fuck around and leave a stain

Upgrade new coupe carriage with a white horse
Purring at night love the sound when it ride sports
BRED gang everything what we live by boy
Rifle on my side, at night we hunt who's gonna ride boys
Fuckin' up the berg we ain't performed yet
BRED from New York to California
This town ain't big enough for the two of us
I hear you always talkin' shit
Don't make me run up in my pickup truck



Credits
Writer(s): B R E D
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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