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U.P.T. (f. Hot Boys, Big Tymers)

Cash Money slangin nine nigga

(Off top playboy)

H.B's and The B.G.'s

(What's happing little B.G. bring it to these niggas)When I got that iron in my hand I'm goin' to slang it

When I got that drama on my mind I'm goin' to bring it

I ain't backin' down from no nigga that's nathan'

If the nigga say I ain't bout my business look here he hatin'Coming uptown playboy we gonna slang it

If I catch down nigga bad we gonna leave ya stankin'

Fucking wit my H.B's nigga I'm gonna bring it

Rollin' uptown stay strap and keep thinkin'Cause a nigga get stolen

Better yet get takin'

Paper is burn

They come fast, ya can't shake it

Picture this my brother Cash Money done went nation

That come's from seven hard years of dedicationFuckin' with B.G. nigga

I'm puttin' on your face and I'm a kill me a nigga

That's believin' worth six figures we call hard hitters

We uptown riders and we real with this nigga, niggaPolice can investigate but they ain't gonna find shit

But a hundred bullet shells without a fucking fingerprint

This Hot Boy click laid back and spy on niggas

We see them workin' on somethin' look here we riders

Ain't like workin' niggas

Any block with a flussy

That goes for the boss too

We ain't got no picks to choose it

We get cha if we gotta

Wig split cha if we gotta

I know you ain't got word that B.G.'s a rider

So keep it on the D.L

If you got keys don't serve nobody but off V.L

Cause they play for keeps

A one way ticket to hizell

Six feet deep

It's a filthy dirty rizell

On the U.P.T

I was raised in the streets

But I put it on my mind

By the time I was nine

Look here nigga I was slangin' that nineNow them them don't want us

They know me and Turk don't fuss in the corners

They already know that we brothers, Blood

Or whatever you wanna call it

Click up wit my dog we get crazy like alcoholics

Plus we ballers

So whatever we spin the Lex or Benz

Its gonna be on twenny, twen, twensGet off the block when we come nigga (nigga)

To the lane

Shots that close shop when the bullets start spraying

Run your mouth too much, better watch what cha sayin'

Like a nigga on the sideline, nigga we ain't playin'Na, Na, Na, Na

Now why O why Lord

The nigga wanna try and die LordNiggas wanna learn hard way

Give it to 'em like that

Make 'em suffer

Put that bitch wit a bagI guess you probably standin' there sayin, "Who's the muthafucka?"

Nigga Juv's the muthafucka, that'll bruise a muthafucka

Either there's been a lot of cross-firin' in the bricks

And I'm gonna kill me a nigga

If they put me in that shit

Look I'm gonna tell ya like I tell my folks

Play with me if you want but Cash Money goin' broke

Even if it means creepin' up slow

Bustin' out shots out my black Volvo

Fo sho, cause ain't nobody gonna run me

I don't want nobody going to tell my mama when somebody done me

She ain't bring me in the world for that

She ain't raise no ho's

She could have had a girl for that

I been realized, I'm all in

Surrounded by the camouflage, in ballin'

Make a nigga recognize, I'm starvin'

Go in and do a homicide, you fallin', stop callin'

Cause ain't no peace treaties whodie

You better not leave that forty-five at your house cause you gonna need it whodie

I told you boy, I'm a soljah boy

U.T.P up on my stomach from the 'Nolia boySlangin' nine

Fo sho nigga

That's how we layin' it down for the ninety-eight

All the way to the ninety-nine

Worldwide

Slangin' nine

All you bus pass niggas better recognizeThis on here bouncin' all out ya heard me

Ask my nigga Prime nigga

Ask my nigga Lac nigga

Ask my nigga B Dog nigga

Ask Manny

Ask Ruckus

Ask my brother Corey

Ask B.Geezy nigga

Ask Suga SlimmYou ain't got no muthafuckin' heart

Got the butcha knife chillin'

Slicing throats we doin it like that nigga

Ah ha, Ah ha

How you love that now nigga?

What's up now nigga?

Talk that shit now

What, What's up

I thought we was what kind of boys

Nigga what, nigga who what, nigga haI know yall gonna hear me all over the nation

So this is for the East Coast, the South Coast, the West Coast

Over the world

Nigga ain't no beef nigga

It's bout money

Nigga if you ain't making no money I can't talkShut the fuck up

Nigga ain't got no words for ya

It's all about the fetti

Songwriters

CHRISTOPHER DORSEY, D CARTER, C DORSEY, T GREY, V TAB, B THOMAS, B WILLIAMSPublished by

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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