It's Up (feat. Young Thug & 21 Savage)

I love all my friends
Thinkin' about this life I provide for them
This world has some real things dividin' them
My right hand, he's Muslim, I'll die for him
My road manager is drunk as hell at 5 p.m.
I get knocked down, they help me rise again
Ref one leave the game, I ain't sayin' bye with him

I don't care about my opps (I don't care about my opps)
I don't care about my opps (I don't care about no opps)
I don't care about my opps (I don't care about no opp)

Yeah, take a pic (take a pic), Richard Millie, no stopwatch (let's go, uh-uh)
Take a pic of your lips gobblin' on my - (let's go, uh-uh)
I don't care 'bout no mother- watch, nah (care 'bout no, uh, nah)
I don't care 'bout no high-end thot (nah-nah, nah)
B-, you just a (b-, you just a) bystander (bystander)
Christian Dior pajama, Gucci up under, body number

I just picked up somethin' from Mercedes, it's a one of one
Black exterior the one that I want, red inside like that time of the month
Blood money, that's how I got this, blood money, that's how I got this
We can vacation wherever we want 'cause I don't care where none of my opps is

I told the promoter tonight, put me across from they section
We don't play patty cake, they just be lettin' us in, we don't do the inspection
I can't sleep at night with Thug at Cobb County Corrections
I think he did enough reflectin', I think my brother learned his lesson

It's all just a part of the game, we all gotta roll with protection
And just like the motherf- judge, the hammers come out for objections
Nigga, what's up? A hundred and forty-three Rolexes in my collection
I put the horns on the front of the 'Bach, you know Drizzy gon' roll like a Texan
She textin' she love me, the Mexicans love me, I'm out here just makin' connections
And Junior Boy rollin' like Cinco de Mayo, he may hold a fifth in possession

The way that I'm used to playin' the politics, swear I could win the election
You n- is overprotective with h-, I'm already over the next one
I'm at 48 with Ty and the vino, we drunk, it's not even a question
These n- tryna send a message, well, leave that s- down at reception, ay

I don't care about my opps (I don't care about my opps)
I don't care about my opps (I don't care about no opps)
I don't care about my opps (I don't care about no opp)

Yeah, take a pic (take a pic), Richard Millie, no stopwatch (let's go, uh-uh)
Take a pic of your lips gobblin' on my - (let's go, uh-uh)
I don't care 'bout no motherf- watch, nah (I don't care 'bout no, uh, nah)
I don't care 'bout no high-end thot (nah, nah, nah)
B-, you just a (b-, you just a) bystander
Christian Dior pajama, Gucci up under, body number (whoo)

I just picked up somethin' from Mercedes, it's a one of one
Black exterior the one that I want, red inside like that time of the month
Blood money, that's how I got this, blood money, that's how I got this
We can vacation wherever we want 'cause I don't care where none of my opps is

You hang around too many n- that's p-, you gotta be p-
If it's on sight, up your gun on me, all that muggin' and lookin'
Yeah, doin' all that woofin', -
4L bomb, walk inside the store, that switch in my armpit
I go wherever, I keep a Beretta, and n- ain't on s-
My opps together, but I don't discriminate, I got 'em both hit
Them n- be lyin', they n- be dyin' and they don't never post s-

No rap cap come out my mouth, made a couple songs, think he hot now
Hit his ass up, he think he Pac now, broad daylight, he got shot down
Chopper bullets make his a- hop 'round, bloodshed, ain't no way to stop now
Goin' live'll get your a- popped now, seem like everybody want an opp now

Leavin' him flat line, Slaughter Gang, knife in the back, I'm on that time
Turn him to a hashtag, make him a "long live," n- ain't my kind
Tried and true, I'ma pop mine, I was 17 with a Glock 9
I wanna see red, stop sign, I wanna see red, Clifford
She keep tryna rip off my zipper, I moved to LA, I'm a Clipper
He think with his d-, he a tricker
Get your b- out the car 'fore we blick her
We put an AirTag on his car, he in Miami by Brickell
Say hello to the four-nickel, I got a magazine, who got an issue?

Givin' out smoke, my trigger finger broke
Don't try me like no -, I always let it blow
I pull up, fah', score -, we caught him by that store
How much you wanna bet they won't stand right there no more?
I'm Slaughter Gang OVO
A half a million a show, but I still walk in with that pole, idiot

Ay, I'm feelin' like 2 Chainz, T.R.U.
I'm 21, bitch, I'm not 22
Knockin' off the name brand n- in your crew
Heard you miss your dogs, now it's long live who?
Idiot, yeah



Credits
Writer(s): Jeffrey Williams, Aubrey Drake Graham, Sample, B. Wilson, Elias Sticken, Thomas James Levesque, Darold Ferguson, Sheyaa Bin Abraham-joseph, James Austin Cyr, G. Akyuz
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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