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styles p - all the way up lyrics

[verse 1: uncle murda]

i had to play the block, ain’t have a jump shot
the hood would love me if i go and get trump shot
in public school had razors in my lunch box
cutin’ cl-ss beefin tryin’ to cut ops
in jr. high oh my we’re playing with hammers now
we was bangin’ so much, the hood got candles now
if there’s beef we bring to where your trap at
i was popular before the gram and snapchat
aw we cuttin’ off these n-gg-s twitter fingers
aw we trigger happy bang we hit your hitters
i dm your bm, you got bodied homie
she like d-mn they killed him and they got his rollie
your main chick a freak, i pay for her first body
the year pac died i caught my first body
my man like d-mn murda you hot still
you know they tryin’ to say puff got pac killed
i wonder how them people that love pac feel
they like, shug did that, that’s not real
but you never know. puff got that fettuccine
let me chill, puff might send killers to see me
before they was playin’ drake records
we was getting these chicks wet to mase records
basic chicks thinking they famous
cause they bartending at l-stful aces

she tryin to come up
got her body done up
got that tummy tucked
she went to d r took the fat out her stomach now its all in her b-tt

[second verse: styles p]

sitting here watchin these n-gg-s
i see no threats. i mean none at f-cking all

all the way down till i’m all the way out
nixin them dimes even pull them trays out
got a couple waps right up in your bae’s house
got some bricks in the east but they ain’t at dave’s house
got some k’s up in harlem but they ain’t at slay’s house
2017 imma pull that range out
you thinking ’bout the jeep, imma pull my aim out
cause you yellin “gang, gang” but don’t know what gang about
oughtta blow your brains out, but i be on that juice
i be movin’ veggies in, i be movin’ fruit
got a line on the plug, n-gg- keep me in the loop
yeah, i lost a little wait but i still ain’t need a scoop
hit you in your cheek, then your face goin’ droop
i be yellin’ “peace!” cause i’m about peace
but i could be a thousand deep on anybody’s street
always go dolo on the creep with the heat
i don’t do co-ds, i don’t do witnesses
n-gg-s talk that murder sh-t, better know what friction is
love to hear the gun clap, that’s what addiction is
always did my homework, that’s what a mission is
every line burn [?] syphilis
catch me loungin out, right there on st. nicholas
113th, right at [?]
kill one, i kill ten, then i say we even
why the f-ck you breathin? i don’t even know it n-gg-
feds want us gone, we don’t even grow it n-gg-
actin’ like you know a n-gg-? that’ll get you killed
at least in a coma, act like you know the deal
thought you was a player, act like you know the field
my n-gg-s like the army, act like you know the drill, n-gg-

- styles p lyrics

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