Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pups, artist - A$AP Ferg. Date of issue: 15.08.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Pups |
| I said get at me |
| I’m talkin' to you niggas with that rap beef |
| Get at me |
| Ostrich-skin seats like it’s acne |
| Get at me |
| Never tacky, jeans made by Acne |
| Fuck Governor Pataki and Patakis |
| It’s about to get uglier than Balenciagas |
| Felt bad I never finished college |
| Now we fuckin' cuties with booties in Dapper Dan silk pajamas |
| Livin' the dream, open up your eyelids |
| Me and Flacko on a island with a few bad bitches |
| How my cousin make a mil' off a du-rag business? |
| All my dawgs with the shit, you with a few cat litters |
| All the yellow with the black like the Wu back (Su) |
| Back when I was rentin' beds, I was still catchin' head |
| If I was bussin' dishes, I’d be still fuckin' bitches |
| Boof pack, gift wrapped just like Christmas |
| Gone for a minute, now I’m back, did you miss me? |
| Had the whole Harlem World wearin' Under Armours |
| Under the armors, I’m a pretty mothafuckin' comma |
| Gorgeous comma, pretty much about to fuck your mama |
| Kinda runnin' late for this meetin' with Obama |
| I ain’t mean it to rhyme, but call me when your mind right |
| Meet me with your romper, CC me when the vibe right |
| More money, more problem, more chopper, more drama |
| And I got these hoes, feelin' like Mo Bamba |
| Where my dawgs at? |
| (We right here, dawg) |
| Where my dawgs at? |
| (We right here, dawg) |
| Where my dawgs at? |
| (We right here, dawg) |
| Now where my dawgs at? |
| (We right here, dawg) |
| Who gon' do what? |
| My dawgs gon' tool up |
| Nigga, look out, 'cause look down like one, two, fucked |
| And we don’t give two fucks |
| Where I’m from, you lunch, you food |
| Niggas called your bluff |
| Pockets Warren Buffett, security guard too buff |
| I like my songs screwed up |
| I own a gold toothbrush, I get my gold tooth buffed |
| I’ma stomp a nigga out in Timberland nubuck |
| Young Buck, too buck, Benz truck, new truck |
| Big horns, tuba, more good than Cuba |
| They tried to hit us like Huey with the armpits up |
| But we swerved through the bullets, get your targets up |
| Hood Pope up in this bitch, in Trap Lord we trust |
| Now where my dawgs at? |
| (We right here, dawg) |
| Where my dawgs at? |
| (We right here, dawg) |
| Where my dawgs at? |
| (We right here, dawg) |
| Now where my dawgs at? |
| (We right here, dawg) |
| I said get at me |
| I’m talkin' to you niggas with that rap beef |
| Get at me |
| Ostrich-skin seats like it’s acne |
| Get at me |
| Never tacky, jeans made by Acne |
| Fuck Governor Pataki and Patakis |