Lyrics #WhatsUp - So-Low

Sequel to flick
And it's a hit at that box office
Officer offered me options
You want Cage or coffin?
Luke Cage with the rage
Squeezed then plead
Shells hit my chest
But he was confused I didn't bleed
Who knock knees
Who brought breeze
I brought these
Couple keys one for the crib and one for my shawties
Can't rock the homie
She ain't even allowed to look
A Dog gon beg for food but fool my boo ain't a cook

Beyond that
I'm bound to snap
Bands on my hands
Symbolizes my lifes track and where we at
If I get derailed follow the rails to go home
Bust a rhyme in my zone like my squad was flipmode

Finish line, zoom through
Victory lap, do two
Allergic to not being on top
All I can do is get at you

Bless me- Don't press me
Salad good- No dressing
Flossin dentures- Don't impress me

See, I know my spot Top right by the elbow
Boy you say laced up But still, fuck with velcro
Hot pot- Broken handles I still hold the bands thou
Dirty south flow Equip with banjos

So What's up so what's up
Well what's up what's up
So what's up so what's up
What's up with it then?
So What's up so what's up
Well what's up what's up
So what's up so what's up
What's up with it then?

Round two for your bitch ass the preemptive diss track
You scrubby like dish rag I'm controlling like wrist grab
The big brag Envokes a big splash
Hit em with a lip smack C'mon son. Get back

C'mon son get back, You don't wanna hit that
The thought that you can even compete with a G is straight trash
Cmon son get back Who you trying to get at?
Like a joe Budden podcast- Pause- Don't do that

Don't do that- Wildin on that yak
Yo Gimmie that- Freestyle while I cabbage patch
Bring it back- Like a kalid aid lib
Who that kid he mad sick- On the mic magic

Wordsmith the words flip Iron from horse shit
My horse shits iron And I shit you not I mold it
It's crazy Getting away with murder I wrote
Bed knobs rubbed my broomstick while her tea kettle spoke

Yall broke - Broke ass
Like a cheap-ass toy
I'm multimillion like Nintendo
Don't try to game boy
Set that shit aflame boy
Take yall dames boy
Have her like Ooo I'm glad you came, boy

Ewwww
Well, that's what I'm about
Everything I do is fire
With no Misses or doubt
No doubt like Gwen
And I be going bananas
Sleep on me again
I'll bury you in your pajamas