Top Uh It Lyrics

Okay, okay, lil' ****

Aye, okay, lil' ****, lil' ****, yeah

Okay, let me talk my shit one time

How you mad at me for doin' the same shit, you hypocritical bitch?

Caught with weed and guns, ain't get no bond, the judge had made me sick

I took mine to the chin, ****, you a sucker, you ain't even take your lick

Bro 'n 'em already know, wherever they see them boys, they take they shit

I'm the one she get revenge with, I'm Mr. Take Your Bitch

I'm 99 overall, lil' ****, I hardly ever miss

Heard you goin' broke tryin' to stay lit, you can't keep up with me

I'll be rich till 2099, you better tuck your cheese

I never said, "Fuck the streets," one foot out and one foot deep

Stand on this shit till I'm in the ground, I know who down for me

My young crew ain't make it to finish school, they sold the pounds with me

None of them bitches ain't worth a nut, I hate I ever squeezed 'em

I'm from that side of town where they play it crazy and try to lay

Boys in the hood, it's time to slide, them **** turn to Tre

Dough, hear me out

Not only did I put food on the table, I even fixed the plate

I'll go get a job cuttin' down trees 'fore I run out of pape'

I get pounds to doorstep in this state, it only take a day

Set up come from middle of the mall, these **** jewelry fake

All black cars are like I'm in a mob, but we screamin' free GA

A war pop off, I'm doin' a roll call, make sure the brodie straight

This bitch want me to keep it real, but everythin' about her fake

Five hundred thousand to the lawyer, I'm tryin' to beat the case

We them boys who run around Skyami with them Georgia plates

I used to break pounds down for Boo, he let me keep the shape

Lil' ****, big four nickel, it help me hold my weight

Nine figures later, I'm still thuggin', I can't go for nothin'

I been at the pape' since goin' to Fox Street, gettin' the weed from Nut

I come from that spot where you hear shots, you need to die or duck

I come down that boulevard in new Ferraris, me and Dan 'n 'nem

And he don't dap **** up, he keep his gun in hand, though

I got way more hoes than I got clothes, so I don't care what she do

Turn your mama house into a trap spot, I got love for Lil Q

Every day the rent due, ****, and I gotta pay it, I'm goin' hard

Bankroll after bankroll, I feel funny when I gotta swipe my card

I'm really that boy, I got more cards than these lil' **** got drawers

I was out the way, back on that bullshit, these **** done pissed me off

Bales in all the walls, tear shit apart, I really run with dogs

I ain't got no opps, these **** post it all, I'm beefin' with the police

Richard Millies, Pateks, Cartiers, I only wear my APs

I'm Orange Street Records, how the fuck you **** try to play me?

I don't gotta buy no chains, buy the 'partments, put 'em in my kid's name