Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Up , by - Young Thug. Song from the album Thug-A-Nomics, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 19.01.2016
Record label: Tan
Song language: English
Up |
| Wheezy what the fuck brackin', nigga? |
| I might need Be El Be for this one |
| You dig?! |
| Whoa, we tore up |
| I’m like 'baby don’t throw up', if she ever hit the ground |
| Young Thug not pickin' her up, you can Quicker Picker Up |
| Cause I’m a blood, pass me my bup, try’na come around for help but you gon' |
| (what?!) |
| End up suckin', nothing but dick like whoa |
| Baby girl gon' stay and drop it, no steps but I promise I go up |
| Girl what up? |
| I’m like baby this what’s up |
| She under me like a rug, can’t go up, yep |
| Trick bitch pull up on me, try’na get these digits |
| How the fuck I love when they ever like em — ooh |
| Bitch I am a genie, I got hoes in Magic City |
| Even when it’s rented, president tinted |
| I need an Aaliyah she gon' rock all on my boat |
| My chain small but only my weed make me choke |
| Hey come here baby girl I want that amateur throat |
| And when I get through I pass it to all of my folks |
| Damn they got my name on the Coke |
| Blackjack got me winning by the boats |
| Shoot dice nigga five deuce four tre |
| And my weed orange like a fuckin' cantaloupe |
| She fuck me then smile in your face, all she ever say is «Oh yeah» |
| Ooh baby girl, pull up and give top, no lotion, she like Olay |
| Hey I don’t like 'em black, no spades, no way |
| And I only tell her to hurry and wait |
| Whoa, we tore up |
| I’m like 'baby don’t throw up', if she ever hit the ground |
| Young Thug not pickin' her up, you can Quicker Picker Up |
| Cause I’m a blood, pass me my bup, try’na come around for help but you gon' |
| (what?!) |
| End up suckin', nothing but dick like whoa |
| Baby girl gon' stay and drop it, no steps but I promise I go up |
| Girl what up? |
| I’m like baby this what’s up |
| She under me like a rug, can’t go up, yep |
| Bitches comin' round the fuckin gangsta, think they stupid |
| Pull up in the vintage, smoking loud like a Duely |
| And I know I am the best, bitch, how you do this? |
| And I pulled up on your bitch and the children |
| Damn what the fuck is going on, I am gone, so gone |
| I just spent a band on cologne, I am on, so on |
| And my neighbors call my thick misses Texas Roni |
| They was watchin' me back in the days like a Sony, promise |
| I just bought my son a Bentley from Import Cars |
| All my bitches coming foreign plus they head on |
| These lil' bitches try’na compete then they dead wrong |
| I’m a act just like I’m sleep but I’m dead on |
| Whoa, we tore up |
| I’m like 'baby don’t throw up', if she ever hit the ground |
| Young Thug not pickin' her up, you can Quicker Picker Up |
| Cause I’m a blood, pass me my bup, try’na come around for help but you gon' |
| (what?!) |
| End up suckin', nothing but dick like whoa |
| Baby girl gon' stay and drop it, no steps but I promise I go up |
| Girl what up? |
| I’m like baby this what’s up |
| She under me like a rug, can’t go up, yep |