Nut Up II
Wru? on the beat 2024
Finna go in, watch this
It's your boy (Dominic Hughes)
Back again spitting like a Mac-10
Gone for a minute, never leaving again
All you people run your mouth
Speaking down on my kin
It's like a graveyard the way they're throwing
Dirt on my chin (uh huh)
But that's not what it is
You think you hard until you catching a fist
I know I been away but let me show you
What you done missed
I'm finna show you lil boys
How I did back then, uh huh
Yeah boy, times up your luck up
Better grow some balls and nut up
Try me? Oh you way too stuck up
Talking too much, pull up boy, buck up
Yeah boy, times up your luck up
Better grow some balls and nut up
Try me? Oh you way too stuck up
Talking too much, pull up boy, buck up
Too unfocused, though no one noticed
Throwed too much focus
On dumb things, I admit it
But now I know it was a catapult
To throw me right back onto my bank
Let's get it, yeah
Pennies I'm pinching
I'm bricking up money you too busy spending
On things that you cannot take
With you to Heaven
So sit for a minute 'fore spending a pension
(They tried)
Taking my throne but I'm taking it back
Every album and every listen
I'm sticking up now they all taken aback
All you need rappers wack
And your music is trash
You gon' need a spacecraft
To at least be at half
Of the stack of the pedestal
That I have stacked
And that's me being humble
Of heights that I'm at like (mmh)
Sorry, I still don't say sorry though
Stacking my coins like I'm Mario
My pockets fat like they're Wario
Giving my shorty her cardio
(Yeah boy, times up your luck up)
(Better grow some balls and nut up)
(Try me? Try me?)
(Talking too much, pull up boy, buck up)
All you dudes speaking wack online
Won't achieve what I seen in a lifetime
Only fades you run is when your barber done
Fucked up and shoved back your hairline
Boy keep talking slick
And you gon' get hit
Walk you down like a walking stick
Got Red 40 all up on my fist
With my pen in hand
Crossing off my list, uh huh
Finna go in, watch this
It's your boy (Dominic Hughes)
Back again spitting like a Mac-10
Gone for a minute, never leaving again
All you people run your mouth
Speaking down on my kin
It's like a graveyard the way they're throwing
Dirt on my chin (uh huh)
But that's not what it is
You think you hard until you catching a fist
I know I been away but let me show you
What you done missed
I'm finna show you lil boys
How I did back then, uh huh
Yeah boy, times up your luck up
Better grow some balls and nut up
Try me? Oh you way too stuck up
Talking too much, pull up boy, buck up
Yeah boy, times up your luck up
Better grow some balls and nut up
Try me? Oh you way too stuck up
Talking too much, pull up boy, buck up
Too unfocused, though no one noticed
Throwed too much focus
On dumb things, I admit it
But now I know it was a catapult
To throw me right back onto my bank
Let's get it, yeah
Pennies I'm pinching
I'm bricking up money you too busy spending
On things that you cannot take
With you to Heaven
So sit for a minute 'fore spending a pension
(They tried)
Taking my throne but I'm taking it back
Every album and every listen
I'm sticking up now they all taken aback
All you need rappers wack
And your music is trash
You gon' need a spacecraft
To at least be at half
Of the stack of the pedestal
That I have stacked
And that's me being humble
Of heights that I'm at like (mmh)
Sorry, I still don't say sorry though
Stacking my coins like I'm Mario
My pockets fat like they're Wario
Giving my shorty her cardio
(Yeah boy, times up your luck up)
(Better grow some balls and nut up)
(Try me? Try me?)
(Talking too much, pull up boy, buck up)
All you dudes speaking wack online
Won't achieve what I seen in a lifetime
Only fades you run is when your barber done
Fucked up and shoved back your hairline
Boy keep talking slick
And you gon' get hit
Walk you down like a walking stick
Got Red 40 all up on my fist
With my pen in hand
Crossing off my list, uh huh
Credits
Writer(s): Dominic Tyler Hughes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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