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Yeah, yeah (Uh, uh) Yeah, yeah (Uh) Who got the ups on us? (Who got ups on us?) Strap across your shirt, like, nigga, buckle up (Helluva made this beat, baby) You can't miss, I send you on that hit, might die, you fuck it up [?] ho got like three trimmers, real street nigga, my money up Wave this bitch like, "Hey, what's up?" Soon as fat boy get close enough Niggas don't want bump, they punks, on IG, hope I post 'em up I talk to them bodies late at night when I be rollin' up They know it's us Gone with all that flaggin', bitch, you braggin', now I choke on bra .40, that's the caliber, the magazine is seventeen I got this from Medellín, eighteen timеs thirty-three I hope he ain't sellin' drеams, might go back to mailin' keys I don't want no good bitch, make good bitch a felon, please My wrist methamphetamine You know this that ice talk Hop out on foot, let pipe off Yellow tape, white chalk OT gettin' this ice off 'Fore a hundred mails every country town around, we beat it down Used to bag up pieces, sittin' up east listenin' to Wipe Me Down Letras de canciones I know they don't like me now, your brother, sister, cousin Feds ever hit the house, put my shit in the oven They get cheaper by the roster, who to a monster? We blow them choppers, bitch I don't know my answer, bitch Tell me, what come after rich? Play with us, we whackin' shit, claimin' shit and stampin' shit Fuck y'all (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) These niggas don't want beef with us, they IG killers We bendin' blocks in three rentals, I don't see niggas Keep drillin', bitch, we breed killers We elite spinners Big shiner, keep his heat wth him, even sleep with it Wake up, bitch won't fuck the youngin from the front, go get that makeup To make sure all my niggas had a piece, I took a pay cut Ho gon' put the sperm in her name, gon' need some pasters I'm crankin' my fake drugs for four-hundred and eight months [?] with me like [?] The driver like my [?] That's the only bitch I can't touch These niggas is not me, these niggas is not Gee Got blow pack, got rock seeds Got [?] and boxed gin, I'm top ten Yeah, go catch one and get locked in Got out of line and get knocked in In my city, I'm top ten Number one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine With a white boy snortin' H lines In the side county, niggas can't find With a .45 on my waistline Like fuck niggas, I'm lit now Crossed over, I'm big slime I'm still slidin', I'm rich now Everybody gotta pick sides Took a risk to hold up my wrist high My lil' brother took six lives, he a lil' nigga but look 6'5" Can the opps say they didn't hide? Yeah` From Letras Mania