Back Up by BAND UP Lyrics
[Intro]
(Produced by Cre8)
Grra, bah, bah
Yeah, uh, uh, uh
Whole lotta gang shit, yeah (Band Up)
Whole lotta Band Up shit
Ayy, fuck the opps, man, ha
[Chorus]
You not your own man, always callin' for back up
Run down on that nigga, he givin’ that sack up
Momma like, "Boy, you got drugs in my house?"
Uh, yeah, "Well, you need to pack up"
He said he gon' rob me, I cracked up
He could purp if he want, but that nigga get passed up
First grade, nigga went to school, used to act up
We got beef with the opps, they not likin' this match up
Ha, yeah, give me that
Run up a check, buy my momma a Jimmy bag
This not they month, fuck yo’ momma like Jimmy dad
He claim he don't know me, my mother, he been a fan
And he pulled up with some gas in a mini-van, yeah, uh, uh
And he pulled up with some gas in a mini-van, yeah, uh, uh
[Verse 1]
Wockhardt, nigga steady sippin' on good drank
I hang with some niggas, I know that they don't think
Trap phone buzzin', but your phone, it don't ring
She wan' be my wife, but I can't give her no ring
You can’t make the cut, so you watch from the nosebleed
Two [?] bitches, the same as a trophy
I know when I speak that they gon’ listen closely
They heard all my songs, so they feel like they know me, uh
Stop all that bluffin', bruh
You made a few plays, now you feel like you somethin’, bruh
Niggas be hatin', they see that I'm comin' up
Send me a beat, bitch, you know I’ma fuck it up
Three zips in the classroom, nah, I can't fumble, nah
Last lick in the bathroom, I'm 'bout to punch it, uh
For a feat', I won't ask you, 'cause I never wanted one
White plug, call him Matthew, but I think he ran for Trump, uh
When I heard he was tippin', he lost me
She see how I'm comin', she can't get up off me
What I spent on my re-up to him, that shit cost me
"Always be real, never fold", father taught me, uh
When I heard he was tippin', he lost me
She see how I'm comin', she can't get up off me
What I spent on my re-up to him, that shit cost me
"Always be real, never fold", father taught me, uh
[Chorus]
You not your own man, always callin' for back up
Run down on that nigga, he givin' that sack up
Momma like, "Boy, you got drugs in my house?"
Uh, yeah, "Well, you need to pack up"
He said he gon' rob me, I cracked up
He could purp if he want, but that nigga get passed up
First grade, nigga went to school, used to act up
We got beef with the opps, they not likin' this match up
Ha, yeah, give me that
Run up a check, buy my momma a Jimmy bag
This not they month, fuck yo' momma like Jimmy dad
He claim he don't know me, my mother, he been a fan
And he pulled up with some gas in a mini-van, yeah, uh, uh
And he pulled up with some gas in a mini-van, yeah, uh, uh
[Verse 2]
I was down bad, niggas won't tryna help me
I was dressin' in black just so I could be stealthy
Please don't diss in your raps, boy, that shit is not healthy
I ain't stop givin' pressure until them boys felt me
Ooh, uh, he mad now
Purp if he want, but I bet he won't spaz out
Got some dummies around, just incase I won't crash out
And he upset, he like, "Bitch, I'ma flash out"
We know he the lick so we set him up
Walk down, run down, smoke him like angel dust
I ain't even try take it from him 'cause he give it up
They took my style, I ain't even try change it up
I'm lackin', please don't try play, we gon' light you up
She beggin', she want the dick, I'ma pipe her up
Finesse him, if he found out, he gon' fight you, bruh
He think it's sweet, well, I got a surprise for him, uh
[Outro]
And that's what he get just for tryin' him
Yeah, uh, uh
Whole lotta gang shit, yeah
Whole lotta Band Up shit
Hrr, bah, bah, bah, bah
(Produced by Cre8)
Grra, bah, bah
Yeah, uh, uh, uh
Whole lotta gang shit, yeah (Band Up)
Whole lotta Band Up shit
Ayy, fuck the opps, man, ha
[Chorus]
You not your own man, always callin' for back up
Run down on that nigga, he givin’ that sack up
Momma like, "Boy, you got drugs in my house?"
Uh, yeah, "Well, you need to pack up"
He said he gon' rob me, I cracked up
He could purp if he want, but that nigga get passed up
First grade, nigga went to school, used to act up
We got beef with the opps, they not likin' this match up
Ha, yeah, give me that
Run up a check, buy my momma a Jimmy bag
This not they month, fuck yo’ momma like Jimmy dad
He claim he don't know me, my mother, he been a fan
And he pulled up with some gas in a mini-van, yeah, uh, uh
And he pulled up with some gas in a mini-van, yeah, uh, uh
[Verse 1]
Wockhardt, nigga steady sippin' on good drank
I hang with some niggas, I know that they don't think
Trap phone buzzin', but your phone, it don't ring
She wan' be my wife, but I can't give her no ring
You can’t make the cut, so you watch from the nosebleed
Two [?] bitches, the same as a trophy
I know when I speak that they gon’ listen closely
They heard all my songs, so they feel like they know me, uh
Stop all that bluffin', bruh
You made a few plays, now you feel like you somethin’, bruh
Niggas be hatin', they see that I'm comin' up
Send me a beat, bitch, you know I’ma fuck it up
Three zips in the classroom, nah, I can't fumble, nah
Last lick in the bathroom, I'm 'bout to punch it, uh
For a feat', I won't ask you, 'cause I never wanted one
White plug, call him Matthew, but I think he ran for Trump, uh
When I heard he was tippin', he lost me
She see how I'm comin', she can't get up off me
What I spent on my re-up to him, that shit cost me
"Always be real, never fold", father taught me, uh
When I heard he was tippin', he lost me
She see how I'm comin', she can't get up off me
What I spent on my re-up to him, that shit cost me
"Always be real, never fold", father taught me, uh
[Chorus]
You not your own man, always callin' for back up
Run down on that nigga, he givin' that sack up
Momma like, "Boy, you got drugs in my house?"
Uh, yeah, "Well, you need to pack up"
He said he gon' rob me, I cracked up
He could purp if he want, but that nigga get passed up
First grade, nigga went to school, used to act up
We got beef with the opps, they not likin' this match up
Ha, yeah, give me that
Run up a check, buy my momma a Jimmy bag
This not they month, fuck yo' momma like Jimmy dad
He claim he don't know me, my mother, he been a fan
And he pulled up with some gas in a mini-van, yeah, uh, uh
And he pulled up with some gas in a mini-van, yeah, uh, uh
[Verse 2]
I was down bad, niggas won't tryna help me
I was dressin' in black just so I could be stealthy
Please don't diss in your raps, boy, that shit is not healthy
I ain't stop givin' pressure until them boys felt me
Ooh, uh, he mad now
Purp if he want, but I bet he won't spaz out
Got some dummies around, just incase I won't crash out
And he upset, he like, "Bitch, I'ma flash out"
We know he the lick so we set him up
Walk down, run down, smoke him like angel dust
I ain't even try take it from him 'cause he give it up
They took my style, I ain't even try change it up
I'm lackin', please don't try play, we gon' light you up
She beggin', she want the dick, I'ma pipe her up
Finesse him, if he found out, he gon' fight you, bruh
He think it's sweet, well, I got a surprise for him, uh
[Outro]
And that's what he get just for tryin' him
Yeah, uh, uh
Whole lotta gang shit, yeah
Whole lotta Band Up shit
Hrr, bah, bah, bah, bah