paroles de chanson It's Up (feat. Young Thug & 21 Savage) - 21 Savage , Young Thug , Drake

I love all my friends

Thinkin' about this life
I provide for them

This world has some
Real things dividin' them

My right hand
He's Muslim, I'll die for him

My road manager is
Drunk as hell at 5 p.m

I get knocked down
They help me rise again

Ref 1 leave the game
I'm sayin' bye with him

Drake
Turn this shit the fuck up

I don't care about my opps
(I don't care about my opps)

I don't care about my opps
(I don't care about no opps)

I don't care about my opps
(I don't care about no opp)

Yeah, take a pic (Take a pic)
Richard Millie
No stopwatch (Let's go, uh-uh)

Take a pic of your
Lips gobblin' on my cock (
Let's go, uh-uh, shit)

I don't care
'bout no motherfuckin'
Watch, nah
(I don't care 'bout no, uh, nah)

I don't care
'bout no high-end thot
(Nah, nah, nah)

Bitch, you just a
(Bitch, you just a), bystander

Christian Dior pajama
Gucci up under, body number

I just picked up somethin' from Mercedes
It's a one of one

Black exterior the one that I want

Red inside like that time of the month

Blood money
That's how I got this
Blood money
That's how I got this

We can vacation wherever
We want 'cause
I don't care where none of my opps is

I told the promoter tonight
Put me across from they section

We don't play patty cake
They just be lettin' us in
We don't do the inspection

I can't sleep at night with
Thug at Cobb County Corrections

I think he did enough reflectin'
I think my brother learned his lesson

It's all just a part of the game
We all gotta roll with protection

And just like the
Motherfuckin' judge, the
Hammers come out for objections

Nigga, what's up?
A hundred and forty-three
Rolexes in my collection

I put the horns on the
Front of the 'Bach, you know
Drizzy gon' roll like a Texan

She textin' she love me
The Mexicans love me
I'm out here just makin' connections

And Junior Boy rollin'
Like Cinco de Mayo
He may hold a fifth in possession

The way that
I'm used to playin' the politics
Swear I could win the election

You niggas is
Overprotective with hoes
I'm already over the next one

I'm at 48 with Ty and the vino
We drunk, it's not even a question

These niggas
Tryna send a message, well
Leave that shit down at reception, ayy

I don't care about my opps
(I don't care about my opps)

I don't care about my opps
(I don't care about no opps)

I don't care about my opps
(I don't care about no opp)

Yeah, take a pic (Take a pic)
Richard Millie
No stopwatch (Let's go, uh-uh)

Take a pic of your lips
Gobblin' on my cock (Let's go, uh-uh, shit)

I don't care 'bout
No motherfuckin' watch
Nah (I don't care 'bout no, uh, nah)

I don't care
Bout no high-end thot (Nah, nah, nah)

Bitch, you just a
(Bitch, you just a), bystander
Christian Dior pajama
Gucci up under, body number (Woo)

I just picked up somethin'
From Mercedes, it's a one of one

Black exterior the one
That I want, red inside like
That time of the month

Blood money
That's how I got this
Blood money
That's how I got this

We can vacation
Wherever we want
Cause I don't care
Where none of my opps is

You hang around too
Many niggas that's pussy
You gotta be pussy
If it's on sight
Up your gun on me
All that muggin' and lookin'
Yeah, niggas doin'
All that woofin', pussy
4L bomb shit, walk
Inside the store
That switch in my armpit
I go wherever
I keep a Beretta
And niggas ain't on shit
My opps together
But I don't discriminate
I got 'em both hit
Them niggas be lyin'
They niggas be dyin'
And they don't never post shit
No rap cap come out
My mouth, made a couple songs
Think he hot now
Hit his ass up
He think he Pac now
Broad daylight
He got shot down
Chopper bullets
Make his ass hop 'round
Bloodshed
Ain't no way to stop now
Goin' live'll get your
Ass popped now
Seem like everybody want an opp now
Leavin' him flatline
Slaughter Gang
Knife in the back
I'm on that time
Turn him to a hashtag
Make him a "long live,"
Niggas ain't my kind
Tried and true
I'ma pop mine
I was seventeen with a Glock 9
I wanna see red
Stop sign, I wanna see red, Clifford
She keep tryna rip
Off my zipper
I moved to LA, I'm a Clipper
He think with his dick
He a tricker, get your
Bitch out the car
'fore we blick her
We put an AirTag on
His car, he in Miami by Brickell
Say hello to the four-nickel
I got a magazine, who got an issue?
Givin' out smoke, pussy
My trigger finger broke
Don't try me like no ho, I always let it blow
I pull up, fah, score, nigga, we caught him by that store
How much you wanna
Bet they ass won't stand right there no more?
I'm Slaughter Gang OVO
A half a million a show, but I still walk in with that pole, idiot

Ayy, I'm feelin' like
2 Chainz, T.R.U
Bitch, I'm 21, bitch
I'm not 22
Knockin' off the namebrand
Niggas in your crew
Heard you miss your dogs
Now it's long live who?
Idiot
Yeah