| Uh that’s right, we back in the building nigga
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| Young Fever Presidential, 1−8-7 Presidential
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| H-A-Dub, courtesy of Ghetto Dreams nigga uh
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| We got diamonds, the size of you niggas eyes this time
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| It’s VS2 Clarion on this one, we bout to fuck the club up
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| Go on mix it up (yeah), go on twist it up
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| If you in the club fucked up, holla (hell yeah)
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| I’m talking Henn and Hypnotic, hydro and chronic
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| Mugging a motherfucker, screaming (we don’t care)
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| Hate me when I skate up to the club, with a bug on my wrist
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| Custom six overload, no Crys
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| I came to throw some bows and break a nose, where my bitches and sixes
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| I see you motherfuckers outside, whistling and tipsy
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| Bitch you bouncing with your mouth wide, and mix on your kidneys
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| I’m worser than Ike and Bobby, beating Tina and Whitney
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| I hold three X and dro, feeling oh so woozy
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| Popped a bag of broad at the bar, and gon bruise it
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| Who party like we do shit, nobody
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| My niggas in the club, from Saturday to Friday
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| Bum rush the bar, trample over feet
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| And to you niggas play it sweet, or get put to sleep
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| You gotta love it, when these niggas play corporate
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| Until that metal open up they chest, and they stop just forfeit
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| You don’t want this desert eagle, in your face
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| And act like that drank on that bar, nigga stay in your place and
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| I’ma fall up in the place, with my mug twisted up
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| Straight shots of Henny, plenty hoes wanna fuck
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| Bitch niggas around me, with they nuts swolled up
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| This new nigga on the block, got your spot sewed up
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| 1−8-7 the Lyrical Presidential, high roll
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| Put that diamond in your tooth, on the flo' (hell yeah)
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| We tear the club up, niggas throw your thug up
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| Bitches show your thong, acting like you scared take your ass home
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| I’m fucked up off dro and drank, calling niggas to the bank
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| Seeing how many gon ride, I see the panic in they eyes
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| You don’t want no problems dog, I just came to chill with y’all
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| Show you how real niggas ball, they don’t give a fuck
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| Three way pimp action, after hour in the Clutch
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| Slut chasing in the parking lot, dodging the butts
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| 1−8-7, Young Fever and the H-A-Dub-K
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| Presidential, Ghetto Dreams and them boys don’t play
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| I’m at the club fucked up, in my pick-up truck
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| Fresh dressed, looking like a million bucks
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| I hit the dutch, then climb out the truck
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| Old school Chucks, walking with a gangsta strut
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| You can swear that I’m playing, for the Stanley Cup
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| I’m so iced up, just missing the hockey puck
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| I’m sipping on Hypnotic, feeling pshycotic
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| Good weed I got it, trying to see who bought it
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| Girls getting erotic, shaking ass and tits
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| They see a playa in the mix, so they jump on dick
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| Them girls so slick, with that famous rhyme
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| I ain’t a groupie, I don’t do this all the time
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| Lil' mama stop lying, cause I could really care less
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| I’m really not impressed, and all I want is sex
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| So baby what’s next, are you going my way
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| Another notch on the belt, for the H-A-W-K |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mix It Up , by - Lil Keke. Song from the album Wreckin’ 2004, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп