It's Up

Bryson Lashun Potts

Fifty shots up out this ARP, don't you play with me
And if the nigga say it's up, you know that shit don't stay with me
I ain't tryna to meet nowhere, I pull up where you stay, on me
Hunnid rounds up out this 308 and I was one deep
7.62's detach his body parts, that shit a wrap
Crooked dykes I make 'em move when I'm shootin' in the trap
He was hotboxin' his whip, pull up, put his head in his lap
Best believe if I said, I meant it, that shit no cap (shit no cap, ayy, yeah)
Me and the gang, we thuggin' so hard
We might've just catch us a RICO charge
Hunnid some Crips, we up in the party
You know that we don't give a fuck 'bout the Sergeant
Put him on the ground right after we spark him, we can call that a murder garden
Thuggin' too hard, a nigga tried to check me
I said, "I beg your pardon?"
Had the glizzy up in my Ethika drawers
I step back, then I spark him
Shot these niggas, Ty Lawson
Hole in his head like he was a fuckin' dolphin
Make your mama buy a coffin
Told her, "Stop cryin' 'bout her baby, eat this sausage"
Make her swallow and gargle
Then hit from the back, I'ma have to fuckin' dog her

Don't get caught without your gun (without your gun)
'Cause after dark we gon' kill anyone (anyone)
I spot a opp, so you know he's done (he's done)
He ain't do nothin' to me, we just kill for no reason (no reason)

Lean on the blunt
Tropicana Fruits in the Runtz
You can't hit this blunt
You ain't help me roll this fuckin' blunt
Try to buck me who? Buck me what?
We ain't goin' for nothin'
When I up this bitch up out my hip, boy you better run
Got the glizzy dirty, so I had to get another gun
Say she wanna have some kids, so I put it on her tongue
Hunnid round drum, on the choppa look like Tommy Gun
How the fuck he gon' survive with this money on your dome?
Walk in your house, and then I kill you with your mommy in your home
Sometimes lil' Choppa, he be reekin', this that murderer cologne
Why your body smell like that? 'Cause them fuckin' bodies in the trunk
Y'all took a shot right out your melon, goddamn, we left that boy funky
They like Choppa, "What you smokin' on?" I'm smokin' on this skunky
I pin the tail up on that opp, now that boy look like he a donkey
7.62's leave all those holes look like you was shoppin' at Dunkin'
My Lil' Mexican stabbin' shit, he carve you out just like a pumpkin

Don't get caught without your gun (without your gun)
'Cause after dark we gon' kill anyone (anyone)
I spot a opp, so you know he's done (he's done)
He ain't do nothin' to me, we just kill for no reason (no reason)

NLE, Top Shotta, got the bombs like Al-Qaeda

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Das Lied “It's Up” von NLE Choppa wurde von Bryson Lashun Potts komponiert.

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