Check Up lyrics

[Intro:]
It’s for all my n*ggas getting that check up
Put your motherf*cking hoods up
I wanna see your motherf*cking hoods up
n*gga lets ride out
To all my n*ggas getting that check up
n*gga let’s roll n*gga

[Verse 1: Boosie BadAzz]
In my project, we come up hard
Serving, working and building cards
f*ck cleaning pus*y boy
But ain’t nothing in that pus*y boy
Flip the pack, make it stack
Make it last
Make it move
Been seen to much
f*ck n*gga, I ain’t afraid of you
Work off the streets, teenagers payed on a cool
You ain’t taking nothing I got, old school
I got k’s for you
Stack my dollars
Keep it silent
Mind my damn business
Hundred fifty f*cking twenties in my tanned di*kies
My n*gga keep a bad b*tch
She keep them grands with me
That’s my n*gga there
Pass that future G
All I know is hustle, bustle
Boosie play to win
God made them leave me alone
They lay again
I hustle hard
Hustle hard to get the things I got
You think I’m playing but I’m not
Look at this chain and watch
Don’t wanna step on nobody toe
Don’t want no drama
n*gga I just want the money
Money by the pound
[Chorus:]
Young n*gga gettin' a check up [x5]
(Check up echos)

[Verse 2: Lee Banks]
I’m a young n*gga getting all check up
But no I ain’t talking bout the physical, really though
Zero to a motherf*cking milli, go get it
Rule too smooth like a criminal
Your pus*y is for dead and pitiful
Stepping through the city on my tippy toe
And I came a long way from a shag bottom tracks
With the pro wing shoes and the tilico, really though
Running my bands
Running through, running through bands
Soon as they touching my hands
Bumpers and grind
Stacks stuffed up in my pants
Too much money for fans
Couple a b*tch
But me a be f*ckng a b*tch
Plus I’m in love with her heads
She told me she love me
I told her shut up, she lying
How you in love with a brick
She know I got my check up
There’s baby mamma on my di*k
She wanna get her neck up
She know her n*gga next up
Finest and I be and I be flexed up
f*ck she don’t impress us
All these ladies and these carrots
Imma silent when I dress up
[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]
n*ggas sit down
When I tell you get down
Now get down
Purple drink to wash the sh*t down
Every leak gonna sneak
I run the streets in my pleats
Freaks in my suits and they vary by the week
Am rich now
Snash a n*gga b*tch now
They go big dog
That’s what they say in all my pictures
Lately I’ve been writing scriptures
With the switches, it’s official
Then you hitch on 14 inches on you b*tches
Ridiculous, ridiculous
My neck piece the sickest
I always tucking in for I get ignorant
The business, the business
Young tall bridges
I got coke and white b*tches
It’s a difference when you give in

[Chorus]