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young olt - pop it lyrics

[hook]
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, uh
pop it, um
pop it, uh
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
pop it
[verse 1]
she said, “we gon’ be together forever?”
i told that b+tch, “live in the moment”
this watch don’t ticktock it’s a rollie
get knocked out yo flip flops with this 40 (brr)
i’m posted up on the block with the brodies
double my cup, b+tch i’m sipping on codiene
that b+tch a thottie, gon’ suck on my homies
b+tch i’m a dog like odie
i get lit, pop a 30
styrofoam cup and it’s filled up with dirty
got yo b+tch in the back giving brain, she nerdy
hollow tips hit yo whip, got it flipping and turning (brr)
come here b+tch ’cause i want top now
yo b+tch in the whip sucking d+ck with the top down
you ain’t talkin’ ’bout racks, what the f+ck we gon’ talk ’bout?
7.62 finna knock a whole opp down

[verse 2]
talkin’ ’bout bodies? i got the top spot
pull out that chop it go “fa, fa”
i’m sticking d+ck in her thot box
c+ck the glock on yo block that’s a “c+ck block”
c+ck thе glock on yo block, finna give him a face shot
i just bust down my wrist i ain’t wearing no plain watch
“gimmiе that”, i take yo chain then i takeoff
n+gga don’t give it up, finna wet up his tank top
ouu, drop top for the whip yeah my ceiling gone
try to run off with that pack you ain’t getting home
run up them racks, n+gga run up a million
i’m sippin’ on purple drank ’till my liver gone
f+ck that n+gga and where he from, uh
fiends keep hitting my telephone, uh
i’m moving packs out the living room, uh
can’t beef with n+ggas they go federal, uh
pull up with the sticks, pop a n+gga i brake h+ll of bones
n+gga talkin’ stupid like he really with it, then we spinning on him
if he dissing on my n+ggas and i hear it, i won’t let it go
and this choppa finna pop a p+ssy n+gga like some adderall
bad b+tch, got her all up in my crib and she be giving dome
n+gga dissin’ olt then he r+t+rded, hit him with the pole
no i’m not with all the talkin’ grab the choppa, fill him with some holes
i just pull up with the choppa, aim, (brr), then i’m getting gone

- young olt lyrics

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