Weight Up
I'm on my way up
I got my weight up
Need that money right now I can't wait up
Time to pay up
Don't get sprayed up
All the bros locked down Homies stay up
I send a kite to the yard you get filet up
Goin hard no cap that's straight up
Who wanna say what
Run that fade up
You ain't from the set that shit's made up
Let that blower go
You get ate up
No love for the opps the murder rate up
Leave your section with all that yellow tape up
Don't get chalked out you better wake up
On my way up
I done came up
I done bossed up all them hoes I tossed up
Don't get socked out
I'm strapped up when I pop out
I'ma walk em down Bitch I'ma hop out
I'm Known for all the headshots I'm known for all the knockouts
South side 187 on a drop out
Gun shots duck down better watch out
I'ma air em out me I'ma show out
I'm from paramount bitch what you know about
I do it for the gang you can die for the clout
He ran his mouth so I popped him in his mouth
He from the north but he bangin in the south
The blue rag I'ma show em what it's bout
I keep a yop I keep a chop at the house
I do my thuggie drop bodies and bounce
And you a druggie bitch we know what you about
Tuck your tails when you down in the south
I stand on business bitch you know what I'm bout
I'm the plug that got rich in the drought
Illuminati like I joined the paper route
I'm on my way up
I got my weight up
Need that money right now I can't wait up
Time to pay up
Don't get sprayed up
All the bros locked down
Homies stay up
I'm on my way up
I got my weight up
Need that money right now I can't wait up
Time to pay up
Don't get sprayed up
All the bros locked down
Homies stay up
From a hood that throw fades and shoot shit
True shit fentanyl selling with blue strips
Ruth's Chris coming out the with paper plates
Monte Carlo super sport it's a 88
How much can I make today
You in the field put yo cleats down
I'm known for chin checkin an them beat downs
They be on they best behavior Everytime they see that we round
I spot em told the homie lean back put yo seat down
32 up on my back that's a mothafuckin fact
Most em mothafuckas dead so ain't no way to run it back
If it's coming gift wrapped how the fuck you fumble that
With a switch pro club up under that who is that Ya
Trap house legend he a crack rock seller
I'ma head shot shooter homie ain't no tellin
They call him Chris coke but the bitches say perico
In a regal and I'm bumping chalino
What the Fuck
I got my weight up
Need that money right now I can't wait up
Time to pay up
Don't get sprayed up
All the bros locked down Homies stay up
I send a kite to the yard you get filet up
Goin hard no cap that's straight up
Who wanna say what
Run that fade up
You ain't from the set that shit's made up
Let that blower go
You get ate up
No love for the opps the murder rate up
Leave your section with all that yellow tape up
Don't get chalked out you better wake up
On my way up
I done came up
I done bossed up all them hoes I tossed up
Don't get socked out
I'm strapped up when I pop out
I'ma walk em down Bitch I'ma hop out
I'm Known for all the headshots I'm known for all the knockouts
South side 187 on a drop out
Gun shots duck down better watch out
I'ma air em out me I'ma show out
I'm from paramount bitch what you know about
I do it for the gang you can die for the clout
He ran his mouth so I popped him in his mouth
He from the north but he bangin in the south
The blue rag I'ma show em what it's bout
I keep a yop I keep a chop at the house
I do my thuggie drop bodies and bounce
And you a druggie bitch we know what you about
Tuck your tails when you down in the south
I stand on business bitch you know what I'm bout
I'm the plug that got rich in the drought
Illuminati like I joined the paper route
I'm on my way up
I got my weight up
Need that money right now I can't wait up
Time to pay up
Don't get sprayed up
All the bros locked down
Homies stay up
I'm on my way up
I got my weight up
Need that money right now I can't wait up
Time to pay up
Don't get sprayed up
All the bros locked down
Homies stay up
From a hood that throw fades and shoot shit
True shit fentanyl selling with blue strips
Ruth's Chris coming out the with paper plates
Monte Carlo super sport it's a 88
How much can I make today
You in the field put yo cleats down
I'm known for chin checkin an them beat downs
They be on they best behavior Everytime they see that we round
I spot em told the homie lean back put yo seat down
32 up on my back that's a mothafuckin fact
Most em mothafuckas dead so ain't no way to run it back
If it's coming gift wrapped how the fuck you fumble that
With a switch pro club up under that who is that Ya
Trap house legend he a crack rock seller
I'ma head shot shooter homie ain't no tellin
They call him Chris coke but the bitches say perico
In a regal and I'm bumping chalino
What the Fuck
Credits
Writer(s): Jason De Ross
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.