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lirik lagu cuttin up – poody gordy

[intro: sada baby]
(rj always trippin’, man, rj always trippin’, man)
hold up, hold up, hold up
hold up, hold up, hold up (ayy, jay, man, run that sh*t)

[chorus: sada baby]
uh, ar make a n*gga do the fool like rj used to
huh, i woke up lookin’ for a new reason to shoot you
cuttin’ up, huh, nuttin’ up, got a few loose screws
he run up, he gon’ get done up, i make a loser lose
he got an attitude, his baby mama choose skub
huh, gave that b*tch a smile, usually, i be rude
huh, that’s because i had them yerkys in my sy— listen
that’s because i had them yerkys in my system

[verse 1: sada baby & nuk]
hold up, slide and get him hurt
we arrived to— naw, we arrived to put in work
huh, knew it was us, they seen that big eight ball on the merch
huh, pull up clean as h*ll just to put a n*gga in the dirt
huh, pull up on that bullsh*t, but i can’t take none
huh, draco hit him in his mouth soon as he say somethin’
i’m 5500 through this b*tch, i can’t fake nothin’
huh, leave a n*gga standin’ still soon as we shake somethin’ (on 55)

[verse 2: nuk]
i can’t understand my plug, he get up on that spanish sh*t
we don’t dine in, but we’ll get a n*gga candles lit
see, my bag ain’t the bag that you gon’ panic with
in the kitchen whippin’ girl, i replay all my fantasies
my top is a shaker like that chally thing
i got pictures of the dog, i’m buildin’ up my gallery
i keep my bl!cky right by— they say that we back on pressure
get ’em gone, they know i hate k!llin’ just like waco, texas
my new b*tch got an ass, she say it jiggle just like ari fletcher’s
i whipped up a quickie in that pot and got my brodies extra
i still pull my stains, pew*pew*pew, like i control the game
lil’ brodie, he just wanna score, he wanna show his aim
told my b*tch i’m by my polo g’s, but i ain’t oda
the cop thinks if they wanna tell me freeze just like my rollie face
my n*ggas love the way i hop out strapped, they say i came heat
smokin’ opps just like i’m chief sosa, boy, i bang three
[verse 3: bandgang javar]
n*ggas been put money on my head, but wasn’t no point in that (duh)
n*ggas know they touch me, they gon’ die like that ebola pack (duh)
ar have you gaspin’ out of breath like fifty jumpin’ jacks
tryna scream for help like— ’cause your lung collapsed
your mans ain’t on sh*t, seen me after that and gave me dap (lame)
your b*tch get a bag when she ride me, it’s like santa lap
how you think i find out where you at?
she was sick of barely gettin’ by, i gave her twenty racks
if it was key b*tch, i would’ve gave her fifty (easy)
i hope she hear this song and tap in with me
boom say he hope she double*cross me, i’m like, “d*mn, really?”
he said, “yeah, i get to k!ll ’em all if somethin’ feel fishy”

[outro: sada baby]
(ar make a n*gga do the fool like rj used to)
(ar make a n*gga do the fool like rj used to)

- poody gordy

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