Lyrics Set It Up - Kamaiyah, Trina

Set It Up

Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I’ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'
Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I’ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'
Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I’ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'
You ain’t finna have me sittin' around stressin'
Bitch, who the fuck you disrespecting?
Niggas ain’t shit, his cards, I’ma spend those
I’ma slash his tires and I’ma bust out all his windows
Niggas ain’t shit, his cards, I’ma spend those
I’ma slash his tires and I’ma bust out all his windows
Ayy, that lil bitch that you been with
Is the one that’s settin' you up and let me know just what your PIN is
And since it’s your card that I’m spending
I’ma run it up, nigga, these cards ain’t got no limit
Bought a bracelet, tennis, VVS’s in it
Since I got your shit, I’ma keep running up those digits
You think it’s a game and you can fuck with other bitches
Yeah, aight, nigga, your windows, get to fixing
My mama told me, «Never let a nigga make you fold»
Not a lie was told, all your game exposed
Boy, you think you can play me like I’m one of these lil' hoes?
I’m a big ass boss, standin' tall up on ten toes
Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I’ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'
You ain’t finna have me sittin' around stressin'
Bitch, who the fuck you disrespecting?
Niggas ain’t shit, his cards, I’ma spend those
I’ma slash his tires and I’ma bust out all his windows
Niggas ain’t shit, his cards, I’ma spend those
I’ma slash his tires and I’ma bust out all his windows
He got four or five hoes
Takin' bitches out, gotta buy 'em new clothes (Yeah)
Valet parking, open up suicide doors
Private mansions tucked off in the Poconos
Shit, I’m blowing up the Rolls
I’m mad
'Cause I ain’t the bitch to share no bag
And I ain’t the kind of bitch you could drag
And I put that on my flag, you fuck ass nigga
I’ll piss in your mouth, you lil' fuckboy
Disrespect a bad bitch, you get checked, boy
And don’t you ever play games with my check, boy
'Cause I’m the queen of the board, I checkmate, boy (Trina)
Run up all his cards, run up all his credit
I’ma spend a rack for every bitch that he been textin'
You ain’t finna have me sittin' around stressin'
Bitch, who the fuck you disrespecting?
Niggas ain’t shit, his cards, I’ma spend those
I’ma slash his tires and I’ma bust out all his windows
Niggas ain’t shit, his cards, I’ma spend those
I’ma slash his tires and I’ma bust out all his windows