Lyrics to F It Up
Yeah, yeah, Wax
I just talked her into trusting me again, fuck it up
Let a 'op go with his bitch riding in that Benz, fuck it up
Fuck this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fuck it up
Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
People used to say that rap shit ain't gon' get you far
I'ma keep the killers fed, that funky bitch can starve
Empty shells and backwood roaches, them's my business cards
Took a gulp on accident, woah, that shit hit me hard
Fuck a room, come top me off in this [?] booth
She said she wanna be my bitch, I said of course you do
Had a shoot out in the B and had to torch it new
[?] I ain't get to count the foreign, boom
Trapping, drop a hundred rounds off in their cul-de-sac
Your bitch wrote me in the pin, I never wrote her back
This shit ain't no mid pack, we smoking golden grahams
Had a op bitch bust it open on my only fans
I just talked her into trusting me again, fuck it up
Let a 'op go with his bitch riding in that Benz, fuck it up
Fuck this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fuck it up
Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Yeah, that bitch try'na be my Future, think she Sylvia Brown
Niggas once were at the table with us, on the menu now
Turn that whole table red, Big Willie style
When I up that chopper, fuck it up, get it, I kill the clown
Take that hoe and flip the bitch like whipping when you spin it 'round
They knocked off your partner like an ammo lick, they still around?
The irony of all these gyms on me when I'm lifting pounds
Forest chicken, counting every hen I see like liquor rounds
Yeah, they saying it's up 'til we sit 'em down
Chop, leave 'em screwed, call the swisher house
You broke, need a favor to figure out?
I ain't got it, but just ran up fifty-thou'
Since a young buck, only bank's I had was a shoe-box, better rent a couch
Bitch said she don't trust me, next week I'm in her house, and nigga wow
I just talked her into trusting me again, fuck it up
Let a 'op go with his bitch riding in that Benz, fuck it up
Fuck this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fuck it up
Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
I just talked her into trusting me again, fuck it up
Let a 'op go with his bitch riding in that Benz, fuck it up
Fuck this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fuck it up
Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
People used to say that rap shit ain't gon' get you far
I'ma keep the killers fed, that funky bitch can starve
Empty shells and backwood roaches, them's my business cards
Took a gulp on accident, woah, that shit hit me hard
Fuck a room, come top me off in this [?] booth
She said she wanna be my bitch, I said of course you do
Had a shoot out in the B and had to torch it new
[?] I ain't get to count the foreign, boom
Trapping, drop a hundred rounds off in their cul-de-sac
Your bitch wrote me in the pin, I never wrote her back
This shit ain't no mid pack, we smoking golden grahams
Had a op bitch bust it open on my only fans
I just talked her into trusting me again, fuck it up
Let a 'op go with his bitch riding in that Benz, fuck it up
Fuck this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fuck it up
Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Yeah, that bitch try'na be my Future, think she Sylvia Brown
Niggas once were at the table with us, on the menu now
Turn that whole table red, Big Willie style
When I up that chopper, fuck it up, get it, I kill the clown
Take that hoe and flip the bitch like whipping when you spin it 'round
They knocked off your partner like an ammo lick, they still around?
The irony of all these gyms on me when I'm lifting pounds
Forest chicken, counting every hen I see like liquor rounds
Yeah, they saying it's up 'til we sit 'em down
Chop, leave 'em screwed, call the swisher house
You broke, need a favor to figure out?
I ain't got it, but just ran up fifty-thou'
Since a young buck, only bank's I had was a shoe-box, better rent a couch
Bitch said she don't trust me, next week I'm in her house, and nigga wow
I just talked her into trusting me again, fuck it up
Let a 'op go with his bitch riding in that Benz, fuck it up
Fuck this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fuck it up
Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it up
