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What Up

[Verse 1 - Drake]

High rollers, what's up?

Drinks Houston, what's up?

Onyx, what's up?

You does it baby you does it baby

Harlem nights, what's up?

Treasures, what's up?

Legends, what's up?

Just love me baby just love me baby

Yeeeeeah

To all my Houston Texas country muffins

Baby let me hit that liquor and that blunt you puffin'

And after that I'ma throw that fuckin' "young money" up

And we can both watch it fall like it's bungee jumpin'

Man I'm so high, next time we won't smoke all of that ounce you buy

Oooh, I almost forgot to blow the candles out

'Cause I don't really want to fall asleep and light this house on fire

Goodnight, I'm still up, I told my girl to lay down

I see the bottle is full, I'm 'bout to drink it way down

What up Bun my nigga?

Man you know we stay down

And I'm an honoray resident in UGK town

I'm on my way

Yeah I'm on my way

I never give a fuck about what any nigga say

The music all slow and the bitches all pretty

Me and Pimp about to do it for the city in this thing[Chorus - Drake]

What up? What up?

H-Town in this bitch

What up? What up?

Me and Pimp about to do it for the city

What up? What up?

What up? What up?[Verse 2 - Pimp C]

Money by the ton

Bricks from crumbs

Millionnaire from nothin'

Mind on hustlin'

Pussy a commodity but a dick sell better

Went from Dickies and high shoes to a cashmere sweater

Paint that got wetter than it was in '94

The drink that got thicker and the dirt weed rolled

'96 Impala with the stick on the floor

Now its Bentely four do's with Patron on the low

Light wood nigga, Polo fuck Hilfiger

Jammin' Slim Thug, belly fulla of drugs

Young hard nigga, underdog nigga

Yellow lights on the Masa' do the fall pussy nigga

Yellow diamonds on my finger

Playin' in the car

My dick wanna fuck but my pockets say stop

Not 'cause they empty I'm just greedy for somemo'

I need some mo' dough I'm a P.I.M.P. fo' sho'[Chorus][Verse 3 - Bun B]

Well its the trill O.G.

I got the neighbourhood soul

Kush is dead I'm gettin' blowed

Ridin', bangin', gettin' throwed in the candy painted low

Chrome grill in front of it

Belts on the back of it, my homie shoes runnin' shit

And shorty on the side of me is straight up off the King cover

Don't care what anybody say long as the king love her

Wish I could tell her that I don't but it would kill her

I just keep on grippin' grains, drippin' stains

Bein' trilla, ain't another brotha realer

Blowin' thousand dollar killa

With that Filipino flow that I just got it from Manila

'Bout to snow up in my city

So let me put on my chincilla

In the 'Rari doin' donuts like my name was J. Dilla

All about the skrilla so just point me to the dealer

Keep the work up in the attic and the money in the cella

Your girl up in the second automatics for the fella's

You see us in the back than all you gotta do is tell us[Chorus]

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