Straight Up lyrics

by

Birdman


[Trick Daddy]
Our father who art in heaven
Hallowed thy be thy name, thy kingdom come
All our Gs would've been gone (all our Gs would've been done!)
If it wouldn't for thug holiday (Amen)

[Verse 1: Trick]
In this life I live, I done see n*ggas deal
Seen n*ggas steal and done seen n*ggas kill
And them same n*ggas there, them be the main ones that tell
There's a lotta tension in the air, so n*gga easy on them pills
I rather be the b*tch that's squeezing than the n*gga that's bleeding
See I'mma drink my liquor and I'mma smoke my weed
And I'mma stay far away from y'all buster motherf*ckers
Y'all sucker motherf*ckers, man f*ck you motherf*ckers
I'm being convicted of a thug living and drug dealing
Been a two time convicted felon ever since I was a lil' n*gga
My first words was curse words, sh*t, the first bid I did I was just a lil' kid
And I was raised by pimps, hoes and mobsters
Taught the game by dope boys and robbers
I ran the streets with goons, I broke the rules with fools
I used to take my motherf*cking tool to school

[Hook: Trick]
See I been thuggin all my life, trying to live right, you ain't even got ask
I got that Hen in my cup, smoke in my lungs, what you know about that
You already know (straight up), You already know (straight up)
You already know (straight up), You already know (straight up)
You alread know (straight up), Straight up (straight up)
[Verse 2: Buck]
These feds crazy trying to take me down and book me
Throw me on death row and do me like Big Tookie
Got me running from them rookies and poppin at the Sergeant
Tried to tell them not to push me now look what you done started
And you got these rap artists that's beefing on these songs
But I really will kill so I'm leaving that alone
I'm a grown ass man that ain't about playing
Ten G's will get you killed, your family die for twenty grand
Blow my nose with a Gucci rag, smoking on a Cuban
You damn right I know they mad, cuz half of em' losing
I slip another clip into my A.K
Stay with Trick in M.I.A. when I come and get the yay
See the Chevy got a stash spot
I can fit a hundred in the back and just mash out
Hope I make it home, if they catch me then I'm gone
So we put it on the line
Everyday we on the grind gotta hustle til' you shine

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Trick]
My blood line is a level above the thug line
And according to the CAT Scan I ain't a ordinary man
See I run off ore and I breathe off chronic
I power up off money like a motherf*cking bionic
I travel through time with a military mind
Strapped with a Russian A.K. and a German made nine
And don't mad at the rappers they ain't the one trying to attack us
It's slimy ass n*ggas and red neck ass crackers
Y'all better lower your weapons (lower your weapons)
Before my n*ggas get to steppin
Cuz sh*t can get real crazy if it was a thug invasion
Imagine a whole bunch of Cuban n*ggas and Haitians
Rebelling on your ass
For the sh*t you did to us in the past
See all these tombs and even arrested fiends
It took you fifteen years to close the ave
It's going to be twenty more before they close the barrio
Now where my motherf*cking twenty one soldiers at?
Now where my D Boy big gun toters at?
[Hook]
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