Hold Up

Lyrics

Yeah, nigga, yeah, south suicide Queens
 That's right, Q U, nigga, yea yea
 Shit like that, know what Im sayin', put these drinks up
 Ya heard? Let's do this right, what? Yo
 Hold up, this is for my thugs on the block
 For my one stop niggaz that be huggin' the spot
 Sittin' on crates, gettin' loaded, get that cake
 Dodgin' drinks, spit and hafta cover they face
 Kick some tye, big truck with tricks inside
 In too deep, tryna sell bricks from the side
 See no games, with real niggaz from other hoods
 Car titles get lost, some niggaz get jooked
 But God forgive me if a nigga cross the fam
 Holdin' the heat, the streets'll make me force ya hand
 From my wild crew, sets the new guns off the roof
 To them slick dudes, hot and they workin' the phone booth
 'Cuz Lord, knows, I'm gonna reload and bust back
 Incredible gats, indicted for a federal rap
 They ain't duck low enough, shots shredded they hat
 Murdered and gone, nigga, it's a medical fact
 Hold up, this is for my gangsta team
 And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans
 When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things
 In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy
 Hold up, this is for my gangsta team
 And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans
 When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things
 In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy
 Hold up, this is for my chicks in the spot
 All my bus stop bitches that be pushin' them drops
 Playin' the gate, get it ma, get those papes
 Hustle that face, seven G's below ya waist
 Project chick, dippin' whips, cruisin' the strip
 Gettin' money for tuition, go to school and she strip
 Kill in the club, when niggaz dicks get hard
 Murda mami, set you up and niggaz bricks get robbed
 Help her soul if a chick try to set my team
 I'm tying her up, rep till the death of Queens
 All my staircase niggaz keep flippin' the jun's
 All my outta state niggaz keep gettin them ones
 Guns in the air, hit you with invisible glocks
 That mean you never see it comin' nigga, fifty two shots
 I'm takin' ya block nigga, if you like it or not
 You either roll or get rushed, I guess not
 Hold up, this is for my gangsta team
 And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans
 When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things
 In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy
 Hold up, this is for my gangsta team
 And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans
 When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things
 In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy
 Sticky fingaz, the nigga that be stickin' them spots
 For all my gun-cock niggards, that be bustin' off shots
 Lay in the straight, black mask raidin' ya gate
 Show me ya safe before I put two in ya face
 Dirt on my kicks, hoodies all lookin' for whips
 Catch a rat nigga, leave his Bentley sittin' on bricks
 Bloody ice-pick fights in the yard
 Ten times outta ten, step to me and ya life get scarred
 Shoot outs in broad daylight, bustin' at feds
 Dirty cops with a ki of coke, bring 'em out dead
 For my jail niggaz, stashin' bangers deep in they cots
 For my grimy niggaz, hidin' under cars from cops
 Empty the glock, hitchu with disposable gats
 Bust you, wipe it off, throw it away, it's a rap
 What nigga? I see you back in the hood scrap
 Turn ya Benz to a coffin nigga, straight like that
 Hold up, this is for my gangsta team
 And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans
 When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things
 In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy
 Hold up, this is for my gangsta team
 And my dime little mamis rockin' timbs and jeans
 When it's on, know, we ain't afraid to clap them things
 In the club, gettin' bent, goin' crazy
 Hold up
 South suicide Queens, enjoy
 South suicide Queens, enjoy
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:03
Key
9
Tempo
96 BPM

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