Muthaf**ka Up

Lyrics

Okay, man, are you ready to go?
 I'm ready to go, now c'mon, now
 Crank this muthafucka up
 ♪
 Young Money
 YMCMB, rawest niggas doing it
 School for the blind, I don't see these niggas doing it
 I'm doing it and doing it and doing it well
 Niggas wanna test me boy, who wanna fail?
 Hit you like a bully bitch, yeah, saved by the bell
 If you scared, go to church, I'll see you in hell
 And your girl, she a flip, give me heads or tails
 Everybody fake so I got real for sale
 Gunpowder fill the air
 Rappers shittin' on theyself, you could smell the fear
 And these bitches laying flowers cause the king is near
 T-Raw this is the new flavour in ya ear
 Niggas softer than baby hair
 Why you acting tough? heard you work at Build-a-bear
 I'm a dealer all my girls come in deuce and pairs
 I'm in the building I construct so (Crank this muthafucker up)
 What the funk you beezy's want?
 I'm ready to hump the car I call it ele-phunk
 The trunk in the front
 Man, she give me good brain till she feel dumb
 I just keep going like the bunny till I feel numb
 Yeah, these bitches want it
 I put my man's on it
 That 110 Sup', and that Ferrari California
 Niggas want beef, call me Tony Roma
 You potatoes on the sofa
 Lazy muthafuckas, why you ain't even try yet?
 Rich or die trying, why you niggas ain't died yet?
 Wings tattoo, yeah, forever on some fly shit
 And I'm with the business skip peon with a ty clip
 Stay on the flight, yeah, I'ma trip
 Probably up in Paradise chillin' like Parliaments
 Flow got a boner, you could say I'm on some harder shit
 'Bout to make the speaker buss'
 (Crank this muthafucka up)
 (C-c-crank this muthafucka up)
 (Crank, crank, c-c-crank this muthafucka up)
 (Crank, c-crank, c-crank this muthafucka up)
 Okay, really I get money
 I get money like a bitch
 She ain't going nowhere but I swear that bitch a trip
 You see how the diamonds get to dancing, yeah
 Ya money short, get some pants and shit
 I be with a nigga with a big ol' dick
 Yeah I like them balls, you be shooting them bricks
 Fuck you in the game for?
 Bitch, we up three-zip and it's Game 4
 Tell 'em listen, couple bad bitches's
 Out in Kingston kicking up bricks and shit
 Intervention, bitch, I pay ya pension
 Oh you say what? I don't pay attention
 Yeah, these niggas want it
 I put my bitches on it
 You know the tattoos got Nicki initials on it
 I put the pussy on 'em, cook 'em a pot roast
 Then pull off in the Ghost
 Bitch, I do the most
 What the funk you beezy's want?
 It ain't your turn, better have my money
 Friday like Big worm
 Can't see you niggas, you like a little germ
 Bitches know I'm excellent like Mr Burns
 See my dick like Butter churn
 Baby churn and ya girl with me fo'shure
 That ain't your concern
 She forgot about her man, she will never learn
 On a mic till I die, RIP Chick Hearn
 Yessir, colder than the Pittsburgh winter
 Fresher than a Will Smith T-Shirt
 Disperse coming through Last King and a hearse
 Ask later, shoot first, got shooters like Dirk
 When it hurts leave you losers bruised up
 Bruce Lee nunchucks
 Toe from the floor up though
 Duck, rubber duck now you like oh shucks
 Tell the neighbours I don't give a fuck
 (Crank this muthafucka up)
 (C-c-crank this muthafucka up)
 (Crank, crank, c-c-crank this muthafucka up)
 (Crank, c-crank, c-crank this muthafucka up)
 (Crank this muthafucka up)
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:53
Key
9
Tempo
122 BPM

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