"Up 2 Flow" lyrics
Uh-huh
(Daniel, what's up?)
And I'm chasin' cake like Baby D
I make the paper the paper don't make me
Tryna snatch what? You won't make it from A to B
Hold on, my nigga, I'ma call you when I'm there
But I'm already there, I'm just checkin' the centimeters
I'on know if it's somethin' in the air, but these niggas be bitches foreal
Shit, maybe it ain't made for me
Roll up backwood, they look like a egg roll
I get high as fuck till my eyes look like how the asians be
If you ain't tryna knock nothin' off or ain't talkin' 'bout no money, then shit, he ain't got nothin' to say to me
I've seen what drugs did to all of my siblings, now I stay away from the yale like Jay-Z
Trash bags in the rental, it look like I rake leaves
I take care of my killers, 'cause they do me crazy
Pop the Chop' at his top, turn his shit in to baked beans
He ain't a real killer, he shootin' and shakin'
I cracked the plate with the blade and it scraped me
I took the pin out the Choppa and I shade it
Then I put this shit on and my bitch said, "You gave it"
But I told her, "Take this shit off and get naked"
Put a house on her name so them people can't rang
Put this gun on your name, 'cause I'm still on probation
If you ain't tooly, my hands get sticky
Dump the clip and make niggas get low like Shimmy
When I ride through the city, gotta roll with a 50
Pockets filled up with blues like they rollin' a 60
If I tell my lil' blitzers to get 'em, they get it
They don't want shit, but I still give 'em 10 G's
They asked me, "Who dyin'?", and knew off limits
I told 'em, "Make sure you hit all of them bitches"
And I'm still in the trap with the soft and the hard
Clo-clock it
Nigga, I'm talkin' 'bout the scale, ain't talkin' 'bout no fuckin' s'more
Hunnid years worth of dope in the trunk of the car
I got a hunnid on the back of a mini AR
Duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, bow
Tried to run, but he didn't make it far
Oops, he tripped, I got him, he caught
Let that Glock get up close on him, give him a muah
Muah, huh
Another muah
Muah, muah
(Daniel, what's up?)
And I'm chasin' cake like Baby D
I make the paper the paper don't make me
Tryna snatch what? You won't make it from A to B
Hold on, my nigga, I'ma call you when I'm there
But I'm already there, I'm just checkin' the centimeters
I'on know if it's somethin' in the air, but these niggas be bitches foreal
Shit, maybe it ain't made for me
Roll up backwood, they look like a egg roll
I get high as fuck till my eyes look like how the asians be
If you ain't tryna knock nothin' off or ain't talkin' 'bout no money, then shit, he ain't got nothin' to say to me
I've seen what drugs did to all of my siblings, now I stay away from the yale like Jay-Z
Trash bags in the rental, it look like I rake leaves
I take care of my killers, 'cause they do me crazy
Pop the Chop' at his top, turn his shit in to baked beans
He ain't a real killer, he shootin' and shakin'
I cracked the plate with the blade and it scraped me
I took the pin out the Choppa and I shade it
Then I put this shit on and my bitch said, "You gave it"
But I told her, "Take this shit off and get naked"
Put a house on her name so them people can't rang
Put this gun on your name, 'cause I'm still on probation
If you ain't tooly, my hands get sticky
Dump the clip and make niggas get low like Shimmy
When I ride through the city, gotta roll with a 50
Pockets filled up with blues like they rollin' a 60
If I tell my lil' blitzers to get 'em, they get it
They don't want shit, but I still give 'em 10 G's
They asked me, "Who dyin'?", and knew off limits
I told 'em, "Make sure you hit all of them bitches"
And I'm still in the trap with the soft and the hard
Clo-clock it
Nigga, I'm talkin' 'bout the scale, ain't talkin' 'bout no fuckin' s'more
Hunnid years worth of dope in the trunk of the car
I got a hunnid on the back of a mini AR
Duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, bow
Tried to run, but he didn't make it far
Oops, he tripped, I got him, he caught
Let that Glock get up close on him, give him a muah
Muah, huh
Another muah
Muah, muah
