Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Come up Boys, artist - DJ Drama. Date of issue: 14.05.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Come up Boys |
| Niggas, I’m sick of them, hoes, don’t think of them |
| Countin drug money, with a PHD coriculom |
| Ain’t no sickin 'm, ain’t no trickin 'm |
| No TIP, I might thickin 'm |
| As if, puff my splif |
| You wanna throw, I knock your ass to bits |
| I’m like DatPiff.com, I’m the bom |
| Nigga, I’m a killer, put my hand on the bomb |
| Hundred Gs on the arm, hundred Gs on the charm |
| Big black nigga, who like to front |
| Don’t speak the mods, only confedonts |
| I’m under envestagation, like Berry Bonds |
| Kiss my wife, hug my moms |
| Characteristics of a don |
| War like Vietnam |
| I blast the fifth, then plead the fifth |
| Like Diddy say, «no bitch ass in this |
| La! |
| Caviar wishes, Madoosa on my dishes |
| Chillin with my niggas, let me introduce the bitches |
| Atlanta party, takin pictures with the bitches |
| Niggas actin like the game came with the glitches |
| I never flintch, too big for my briches |
| Marol Lintch money, tryna dodge Willie lintches |
| Willie The Kid chain bright like the Big Dipper |
| I’m a star, sippin Yak off the snifter |
| In my opinion’s stiffer, with the drifter |
| Only fuck with the mediat fam members |
| We tight like the zippers on the Members Only jacket |
| Sharp as a cactus, sandpaper raps, tryna match up my tablit |
| What you call rappin, I call talkin practice |
| Call it how I see it, gotta live it to be it |
| The weed Caribbean, the guns European |
| And if I wasn’t rappin, I’d probably studdy law |
| And in my spare time, writin for the Final Call |
| Welcome to the NSC, the SSR |
| Hey MG, we the best by far |