$tylo (rap) – i’m up lyrics
[intro: splurge]
yeah, guan on the f-cking beat
stop playing
bad b-tch she bad to the bone
[verse: splurge]
run in your trap and we take out a zone
we do not play with cracked n-ggas. like phones
you a crackhead, b-tch you smoke out that bong
you do not touch me, your life will be gone
and we got glocks for them boys acting tough
top tier gang, t up the show b-tch tryna f-ck
ice in my mouth so they know that i’m up
we got them sticks, n-ggas know they not touching us
knock on my floor i’m like f-ck it [?]
keep looking at my guns, bullets go grab em’
rank one gang got them chains we be sn-tching
f-ck in the trap, i’m bust down in the mansion
we’ll shoot this b-tch up, we don’t care about your dancing
f-ck in versace, little b-tch i am fancy
fox-4 news, that’s where you can be
d right behind me, ain’t a n-gga playing with me
rappers be capping. who have you robbed?
you not gonna make it, go get a job
flew back to my city like where is the opps?
i beat a b-tch up, tell her go and call her pops
that b-tch be tripping cause i see them spirits
.45 hit you, but you ain’t gonna hear it
you see the sprinter van, don’t get near it
we leave the whole scene [?}
still f-ck your gang, put a whole in them ah
i am so rich i take hoes to the mall
call rank one they’ll shoot through the walls
empty that sh-t we gon shoot at the law
[verse: $tylo]
think i ain’t finna shoot?
i’mma rip it
empty the clip, tables start flipping
walk in his crib, his b-tch start stripping
when he get home, that n-gga start tripping
i got these strippers, serving the snow
one name snow white one name kilo
hittas on deck, ready to blow
run in your home, than turn up fosho
you might run your city, but we run the state
i know if you debo’s, they’ll come take your plate
thought he was a trapper, till we took his weight
reached for my chain, he sealed his fate
bro gon’ pop him, than hop in the wraith
we ain’t leave a trace, no face no case
i let it spray, like i got mace
but i’ll whip your -ss, so get out my face
don’t say it in the booth, n-gga say it in my face
n-ggas talking h-lla reckless, till they get to texas
till we pull up on him, dump him like your ex-b-tch
n-ggas want smoke, they ain’t gotta lighter
four or five pistols, b-tch i was a fighter
b-tch i’m up, like i pulled an all nighter
you smoking a gram, out of a zip
i’m smoking a qt, out of a brick
b-tch!
[outro: $tylo]
yeah
guan on the beat, b-tch!
$tylo and splurge in this hoe
bad news, double s g sh-t
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