Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hands up, Lay Down, artist - Twista. Date of issue: 08.11.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Hands up, Lay Down |
| Hands uuuuup, lay dowwwwwn |
| Count to ten before you get up off the ground |
| When you do I disappear, like the matrix |
| But if you don’t, then my thumper gon' leave you wasted |
| Dude tried to steal on me, so I’m already pumped (WHAT!) |
| Why you steady standin there talkin that shit? |
| B-Hype gon' go to the trunk |
| Unload the fivers, SK’s and millimeter choppers |
| I got niggaz that be killers with some shit |
| that when you shoot it on the block it sound like a helicopter |
| It’s hard out ch’ere, motherfuckers ain’t got no work |
| It’s a few niggaz got cocaine, few niggaz got dope, most niggaz got purp' |
| Lil' nigga tried to play you shady, instead of yellin out three folks and |
| almighty |
| They be talkin 'bout '80s babies, shorties that was born in the '90s is grimy |
| No respect and no morals, actin like you owe that shit |
| Fuck up out my face big homie, matter fact gon' load that shit |
| It done got so crazy up in the streets sometimes I can’t believe that this my |
| land |
| Lil' girls used to wanna fuck a dope boy, now they wanna fuck a stick-up man |
| Midwest comin in the club with the Folks, Midwest comin in the club with the |
| Lords |
| Midwest comin in the club with the, the Latin King boys man they minds |
| straight gone |
| What’s bangin joe? |
| Pants hang low, why you start playin, that’s the gang |
| Came a long way from sellin weed, pills and cocaine |
| Niggaz catch a body just to get a little street fame |
| C’mon got crunk, that’s cream now Flocka |
| Keep ya on ya toes, I ain’t playin wit’chu nigga |
| The way a nigga rob ya I think I need a Oscar |
| Trick booty nigga I ain’t playin wit’cha partner |
| They say Flock (WHAT!) yo' friends don’t know how to act |
| We shootin and fightin over here, and that’s a real muh’fuckin fact |
| Blap, bottle full of Fuki, version of Tookie |
| All these tats make a nigga wanna shoot me, all these diamonds make a groupie |
| wanna do me |
| Who are you to judge it bruh? |
| Hoe please trip, hell yeah we grippin |
| Cut me one time yo the nigga catch you slippin |
| All that bullshit everyday set trippin (WAKA FLOCKA! FLOCKA! WAKA! FLOCKA! |
| FLOCKA!) |