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lirik lagu give it up – $tupid young

[intro: $tupid young]
no way, hozay
beat boy on the track
uh

[verse 1: $tupid young]
chopper make a n-gga lean like actavis (make him lean)
blew a bag quick, i ain’t used to havin’ sh-t (nah)
baby mama call my phone, always askin’ sh-t (always askin’ sh-t)
’cause when i’m with my dawgs, we be on some savage sh-t (ayy)
i don’t want the 40, it don’t got no aim with it (nah)
i don’t want the p-ssy, it don’t got no grain with it (nah)
n-ggas snitched, seen the paperwork with names in it (snitch n-ggas)
keep a chopper like my name was harley-davidson (boom boom)
see these chains on my neck, go ‘head and rob it (go ‘head and rob it)
i put them circles on your car just like an audi (brrt)
i feel like biggie when i got on this versace (versace)
with your b-tch in the w lobby (with your b-tch)
i’ma ball on these n-ggas like a hobby
i be spittin’ all this fire like i’m eatin’ with wasabi (with wasabi)
n-ggas dissin’, man, i dare a n-gga try me (go and try me)
hundred deep, got my n-ggas right beside me (hundred deep)
east of the beast, n-gga, where you find me, n-gga
poppin’, now i got these record labels tryna sign me (i ain’t signin’)
f-ck with us or f-ck around and catch a homi’ (catch a homi’)
glock-40 and i got it by the tommies (boom boom)
i pull up on a p-ssy n-gga with the draco (with the draco)
young n-gga in the hood with the say-so (say-so)
if you ain’t from the gang or the label (label)
stand a hundred feet away from my table (my table)

[chorus: $tupid young]
too much tats on my face, couldn’t get a job
if this music don’t work, i gotta rob
call my dawgs, hit a l!ck with my squad
catch you slippin’, n-gga better give it all
give it up (give it up), give it up (give it up)
hittin’ l!cks, get the money, live it up
give it up (give it up), give it up (give it up)
if i’m broke, i’ma rob, don’t give a f-ck
give it up (give it up), give it up (give it up)
hittin’ l!cks, get the money, live it up
give it up (give it up), give it up (give it up)
if i’m broke, i’ma rob, don’t give a f-ck

[verse 2: lil gnar]
b-tch, it’s big guap the reaper
better give it up, chopper bullet come fatter than queen latifah
wet a n-gga’s block like a fire hydrant
n-ggas die when i slide by with the nine by my waist-side
got a chopper that stop ’em, a p-ssy n-gga want problems
i slide by in a blue impala countin’ my dollars
and these b-tches on my d-ck ’cause i’m ballin’, uh
shot callin’, gunplay, not brawlin’
n-gga ain’t from new orleans but what’s up, whoadie?
man, i be zonin’ with the pistol loaded
f-ck the police, n-gga, and f-ck the warden, uh
a lil’ b-tch and a crib
and that’s all a n-gga want in this life of sin
n-ggas ran it up, ain’t no counterfeit
got my bands up, so she f-ck with this
n-gga, i ran it up, ain’t no fakin’ it
got my bands up, so she on my d-ck, uh

- tupid young

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