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re-up gang - what's up lyrics

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[verse 1: ab-liva]
from a hustler, play the part of a smuggler
dish it to my jugglers, get it out to the customers
six forty five ci, them hoes loving us
but i felt the top would smother us
got the roof transplanted, so now that the sun’s touching us
plus the inside with the coach leather the comfort
sitting on blades like shaq shoes is up under us
came a long way for the thing
for twenty five-five to tip under the m-ffler
move it with my southerner n-ggas
that rep they hood, putting on they strugglers
i get it, i grab it, i cook it, i move it, i sell it
see it, i cop it, i drop it, i chrome it, i sh-ll it
i un-fail it, i switch lanes
left-hand turn, burn baby burn
nights, watch the arms heal it
complimented, the german cell is augmented
still says cl-ssy, no matter what the frost in it

[verse 2: pusha t]
sl be the coupe, roof off the drop
neck out the top; look at me, jack in the box
you acting a lot — you ain’t big, you ain’t pac
and we only respect j. prince for rapping a lot
“your reign on the top” — never quote him, i ain’t know him
you ain’t kissed his mama, how the f-ck you ride for him?
you d-ck-eating n-ggas probably wish you died for him
and i admired his work, but i ain’t never cried for him
hoping the dead blow him up, maybe this’ll grow ’em up
hundred and fifty k every time pusha showing up
shimmering hand, shimmering band, i’m glimmer man
chain star-studded like it’s viva la glam
n-gga jack-ss like viva la bam
looked down upon like kris did to shan
one thousand grams wrapped neat in saran
label me landlord, i keep ki’s in my hand

[hook: sandman]
this ain’t sh-t but vicious, this is
just nods to how we living, listen
bought cars is in position, shifting
gears on, it’s my ignition, we in
what’s up, what’s up, what’s up! re-up
what’s up, what’s up, what’s up! re-up, re-up
what’s up, what’s up, what’s up! re-up
what’s up, what’s up, what’s up! re-up

[verse 3: sandman]
picture me rolling, glock that i’m holding
popping you open, stopping the joke and
sh-t drop in your colon, p-ss in your denim
this is your ending, couldn’t prevent it
b-tches for women, f-ck boy
you know what’s up, p-ssies galore
cold-hearted, i could freeze velour
make you breathe no more, i take heart like the reaper’s kiss
but it’s this heat i’mma greet you with: how ya doing?
stop the movement, i’m the mood swing
react though, if you blink, i’mma clap ya
applaud your squad, standing ovation
applaud your score, no hesitation
show me your idiot, i show you demonstration
easy redecoration and see annihilation
i’m tired of waiting all the faking, so i’m taking
meet me, you’ll see it’s grating

[verse 4: malice]
introducing the re-up gang, the montage
the renaissance, the rebirth, the avant-garde
chopard the arm, the car’s the anage
still with the whip, follow the brick, i am oz
oh yes, the wizardry; fires of pot chemistry
the c0ke calls straight to their souls like a ministry
like it or not, we kick in the door
we picking the lock, and still toss the big in the pot
cop the sorbet straight from jorge
jack of all trades, even mastered the gourmet
plus, the price got the street tongue in cheek
cook it til it’s al dente — mmwah, magnifique
black card the era, we got it in the bag
y’all n-ggas ain’t a factor, like trinidad’s jab
i’m back like zab, re-up the venture
recite these ghetto hymns and regard them as scripture, n-gga

[hook]

[verse 5: pharrell]
n-ggas know the lyrical molesting is taking place
f-cking with this here p, it ain’t safe
drop-head coupe with the new paper plates
ostrich-creams are them new gator bapes
n-ggas be acting brand new like an opening
f-cking headache, don’t get them to steal motrin
the heart of a marksman is cold like minnesota wind
and he’s broke so he really wants to spend like oprah spend
so you gonna be hard, or you gonna play chocha then?
maybe you should just re-focus and not approach us then
cause it’s gonna be more than just a blow across the chin
separate your suit from your soul like a moccasin
your soul float up, you look down like, “really?”
cause i’m so short, so icy, like the penguin chilly w-lly
so glittery, but he ain’t know my position, see
hit him with the clip, it went brrrr with the fifty piece
see, i’m a nice guy — i would’ve re-wrote history
boy caught limping like chicken, just like rotisserie
that’s f-cked up, that sh-t gets to me

[hook]



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