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nick catchdubs - wuts that lyrics

[hook]
wuts that
we all up in this b-tch
wuts that
pack up the plats, p-ss me the gut bag
wuts that (roll up)
it’s 3:59 n-gga, take a sip, face a rip, all my homies in this b-tch
wuts that
we all up in this b-tch (we in here n-gga)
wuts that
pack up the plats, p-ss me the gut bag
wuts that (roll up)
it’s 3:59 n-gga, take a sip, face a rip, all my homies in this b-tch

[verse 1: pete]
my n-gga i’m the stoned bong ripper
uptown rain hit you hard like liquor
hi, b-tch n-ggas, for you high pitched tenors, i’m the f-ckin’ tone setter
heard you singing something real, sounding real falsetto
head over heels for the mills, still
i’ma never chill ’til my bank account filled and my cat got a grill
all i do is feel up the meanest sl-ts, the cleanest c-nts that fiend to f-ck, and lean the
blunts
scheme with us and the ds enough
said your man need a gram cause he’s a dub
why you brought that b-tch around, i’ma leave with her
nah n-gga you f-cked up, i am a custie and a connect
i’m lucky i got the flow ‘cause i’d probably smoke my whole pack (light it)
now n-gga wuts that, you talking sh-t oh i didn’t hear
over the loud we smoking we getting high over here
can’t hear you n-gga wuts that
ignoramus, talking sh-t won’t get you famous
put your opinion in your -n-s, and your name is? i don’t give a f-ck n-gga

[hook]

[verse 2: izzy]
same n-gga from the jump, so jump ship
‘cause i swear i won’t stop n-gga you can hate me now
my n-ggas got no chill b-tton, but chillin with your b-tch, b-tch n-gga like break it down
bronx bred, used to love theresa from the ursula b-tches, giving bomb head
now ivy league b-tches giving bomb head, and she ain’t even have a clue that we on next
bon appét-t, rocket broccoli, got me leaked, can’t imagine where i’m at (at home)
olly olly oxen free, f-ck that where the molly molly oxy be
ppoppin in like what’s popping, got a few cuff hoes tryna be options
opting into my d-ck, young n-gga ‘bout his, what the f-ck i care if i’m a little obnoxious
f-cked up, i need a buff blunt, like stop playing n-ggas know what’s up
and if you ain’t got chips n-gga tough luck, ‘cause i throw it up like i don’t get enough love
at the moma, feeling like hova, working on a blueprint, watch me take over
n-gga i strive under pressure, live from the mecca
going’ in my thing until i’m lying on a stretcher

[hook]

[verse 3: illz]
so let me paint you a picture, we on the couch in my crib
she snort blow off the records, when we f-ck man i punch in her ribs
poppin’ the lid on all these ideas, with all of my sons no wonder they see us
they need us, they know us, they thought
i know you feeling a way but don’t start
you aiming too far, you ain’t gonna hit sh-t, though i been drinking and munching on biscuits
your b-tch wanna french kiss slow for that (not), tell one of my homies to hold my pack
(hot)
if you want static then change the backdrop, if you ain’t about it then hit the ragtop
before you talk sh-t better get a laptop, in this b-tch with a bunch of havenots
bounce bounce
walking on you motherf-cking b-tches, baptism at the bar got ‘em feeling so religious
wasn’t luck, it was physics, if they love you then they love you
i ain’t better just above you, be a shame if i wasn’t
and the sweetest of the purples keeps me coasting like a buzzard
big shout out b-tta b-tta (b-tta b-tta!) he said hurry up and light it
son don’t fight it put your lighters up, the night is young, i’m feeling chilly
hiding my drugs, promoters screaming who the f-ck invited ‘em

[hook]

- nick catchdubs lyrics

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