Uh Oh, Yu - Gi - Oh! lyrics

[Intro]
Hold up
They cannot fine me
Shout out to whoever for this instrumental
This beat hard as f*ck
Wait a minute
Wait a minute

[Verse 1]
Ski mask on them n*ggas so they won’t fight me
They keep talking but I know they won’t try me
Step back and shoot it out like my name Kyrie
Sippin on Actavis makes you a high C
Ouu icy! I got the juice in a Minute Made
I pull up, I pop out a rocket, I’m getting paid
If he talk down on my game he getting sprayed
All my young n*ggas they with it
They whip out the cutters take shots at yo’ fitted
Can’t worry about n*ggas, I’m adding those digits
You n*ggas is dumb broke stuck on these b*tches
Pull up, get deep throat, then I’m back to these riches
Ouu, call up the plug talking business
Quarterback she tossed up a pack, I don’t miss it
Spiral that pack to you, need you to flip it
If he run off then you let her go get it
Get it!

[Hook]
Yuh, hold up, yuh, hold up
You better go get it (wait a minute)
If he run off you go get it (wait a minute)
If he run what?
If he run off he gon’ get it
If he run off he gon’ get it!
If he run off he gon’

[Verse 2]
sh*t is about to get crazy
Don’t talk to me stupid ‘cause I’ll leave you hazy
I’m ashing a Backwood, I’m feeling lazy
I pop me a bean and I f*ck on yo lady
Hooh, pull up with some rapping like “What is that?”
I can’t answer the phone, you ain’t talking back
If you ain’t balling then let me know you going sad
Put this di*k in her kidney she call me dad!
sh*t, bring it back
Young n*gga shot out from the ‘preme rack
Who ready for the aftermath
Keep upon a [? 1:18] I’ma lean it back
In a couple month I’ll be skrrting in the evening
Running on a jack with the MAC on my lap
And I’m ready to attack any n*gga if you thought that I lack
If you think that I’m playing, I got this sh*t c*cked back
Run up if you want to and I bet you’ll have a heart attack
If he got an issue, he can poke like a thumb tack
And I run this sh*t just like the Pope, you can check that
[? 1:34] she threw me pus*y over Snapchat
Aiming and I shoot you with the chopper it go ra-ta-tat
I just f*cked yo b*tch and I know you feeling hella sad
She sucking di*k in the trap house and flipping these bags
Said she was home sleeping, I know that you mad
You already know I’m a trapstar
Sipping on lean and I’m whipping in Nascar
[? 1:46] inside the back, f*ck a cash card
I keep the pole for you n*ggas who act hard