"Grew Up A Screw Up" lyrics
(feat. Tity Boi)
(Grew up a fucking screw-up
Got introduced to the game, to the game
And fucking blew up)
I blew up before I grew up
Got introduced to the game
Now I'm at their head like crew cuts
Suit up and lace your boots up, it's war time
It's Weezy baby, no crying, no lying
These motherfuckers is slipping, they better hold on
They're tripping like Cedric and Solange
I flow like I'm headless, no mind
I can say don't rhyme and it's gonna rhyme
I'm so fresh, I should be smacked like Dee Barnes
And you get smacked like a baseball by B. Bonds
I'm to the point, I could kill a nigga with three lines
Watch this
With, three, lines
We got that Tussin and blunts is dipped three times
We light them motherfuckers up and get tree high
And in the game I'm manning up like Eli
R.I.P B.I
(Grew up a fucking screw-up
Got introduced to the game, to the game
And fucking blew up)
Believe that
I say, I say believe that
I got my nigga Tity Boi
Duffle bag boss
Yes sir
(Weezy what's happening)
Gucci belt, Gucci glasses
Four-door coupe and the roof no magic
Voila
So don't worry 'bout my other profession
Cause it, I send shots in the other direction
The old me the Rollie, the new me the ruby
Jacuzzi, the movies
The groupies, the two pieces
And all the animals that dearly departed
Know that my mink game is really retarded
I pumped a few packs, caught a few charges
Made a few stacks and drove a few carses
I go to the mall and buy a few closets
The rap Fernando Vargas
Got my hand on my strap
Aimed at my target
Duffle-bag boy in some high-top Pradas
Get it, straight killing 'em
I push weight and move pack
Duffle-bag boys in the front
Young Money in the back
(Grew up a fucking screw-up
Got introduced to the game, to the game
And fucking blew up)
Got introduced to the game, to the game
And fucking blew up)
I blew up before I grew up
Got introduced to the game
Now I'm at their head like crew cuts
Suit up and lace your boots up, it's war time
It's Weezy baby, no crying, no lying
These motherfuckers is slipping, they better hold on
They're tripping like Cedric and Solange
I flow like I'm headless, no mind
I can say don't rhyme and it's gonna rhyme
I'm so fresh, I should be smacked like Dee Barnes
And you get smacked like a baseball by B. Bonds
I'm to the point, I could kill a nigga with three lines
Watch this
With, three, lines
We got that Tussin and blunts is dipped three times
We light them motherfuckers up and get tree high
And in the game I'm manning up like Eli
R.I.P B.I
(Grew up a fucking screw-up
Got introduced to the game, to the game
And fucking blew up)
Believe that
I say, I say believe that
I got my nigga Tity Boi
Duffle bag boss
Yes sir
(Weezy what's happening)
Gucci belt, Gucci glasses
Four-door coupe and the roof no magic
Voila
So don't worry 'bout my other profession
Cause it, I send shots in the other direction
The old me the Rollie, the new me the ruby
Jacuzzi, the movies
The groupies, the two pieces
And all the animals that dearly departed
Know that my mink game is really retarded
I pumped a few packs, caught a few charges
Made a few stacks and drove a few carses
I go to the mall and buy a few closets
The rap Fernando Vargas
Got my hand on my strap
Aimed at my target
Duffle-bag boy in some high-top Pradas
Get it, straight killing 'em
I push weight and move pack
Duffle-bag boys in the front
Young Money in the back
(Grew up a fucking screw-up
Got introduced to the game, to the game
And fucking blew up)
