f*ck It Up (F.I.U.) lyrics

[Intro]
(Chaney)
(AudHouse)
Chain weigh too much
One-point-four kilos, boy, that's way too much
Hey
Hey
Uh

[Chorus]
Month just started and a n*gga blew fifty-five racks (Blew fifty-five racks, fifty)
Nothin' to a boss, lil' n*gga, I'ma get it right back (I'ma get it right, get it, get it, get it)
Go'n f*ck it up, go'n f*ck it up, I'ma f*ck it up every time I touch it, hey
I been f*ckin' up, I been runnin' up nothin' but the money, yeah

[Verse 1]
Been a while, lil' n*gga, but I'm still on deck
Them boys still in they feelings 'cause we ain't gone yet
I've been wheelin' and dealin', I want that long check
That long money, some long money, I'm gon' get
Got more skrilla than four n*ggas, I keep cheese
Hit the club on them Forgis, them hoes gon' peep these
Diamonds dancin', my watch came out of a deep freezer
This Trigga City, the beef deeper
We keep heaters, Parabellum and heatseekers
For street sweepers, play me pus*y, you meet Jesus
In these streets, it's f*ck a n*gga, no peace treaty
You ain't willin' to let it slide, well, me neither
Been on the grind since Evisu
Used to listen to number nine with B. Sigel
Ran in houses a hundred times 'bout three deep
So much cash, you thought we had a cheat sheet
I change lanes and repeat, the same thing, you see me
Chain hang, don't reach-reach, go bang-bang, no Chief Keef
To maintain, you need least 'bout twenty-some thousand
Anything less, I suggest you start pilin'
Yes, I've been blessed with finesse, that's my talent
Runnin' up tickets to runnin' in houses
I'm sorry, but that's what my style is
b*tch, I'm a rider, them boys got low mileage, I'm gone
[Chorus]
Month just started and a n*gga blew fifty-five racks (Blew fifty-five racks, fifty)
Nothin' to a boss, lil' n*gga, I'ma get it right back (I'ma get it right, get it, get it, get it)
Go'n f*ck it up, go'n f*ck it up, I'ma f*ck it up every time I touch it, hey
I been f*ckin' up, I been runnin' up nothin' but the money, yeah

[Verse 2]
Yeah, chain weigh too much
One-point-four kilos, boy, that's way too much
Hands on her, shawty say I play too much
But she blessed me 'cause I don't really say too much
Think I'm Gretzky and these n*ggas way too puck
Ain't no Pepsi, boy, a n*gga stay juiced up
Who gon' check me?
Haha, in that water like a jet-ski, heavy on them n*ggas
But you bet we on them n*ggas just as soon as they pull up
Talkin' reckless, actin' crazy, I'ma bust your medula
Damn, tell I'm thuggin' by the way I maneuver
If you see me in the club, then I'm in there with shooters
And I'm in there with two cups, probably tossin' a few bucks
Them bad b*tches, they choose us, them weak b*tches like, "Who was that?"
All them n*ggas in here with no money like who does that?
Ho gon' f*ck a n*gga with a check, now where them plugs at?
Pull up and I'm slidin' Forgiato, f*ck your hubcaps
Rollin' with my YG right beside me, that my rugrat
Hold us at the door because they trippin' off a dub sack
n*gga, f*ck your club, I want my motherf*ckin' dub back
I ducked off, went and got my buzz back
And now the kid comin' for you, n*gga
I fell off, went and got my plug back
The trap back jumpin' on you, n*gga, woah
[Chorus]
Month just started and a n*gga blew fifty-five racks (Blew fifty-five racks, fifty)
Nothin' to a boss, lil' n*gga, I'ma get it right back (I'ma get it right, get it, get it, get it)
Go'n f*ck it up, go'n f*ck it up, I'ma f*ck it up every time I touch it, hey
I been f*ckin' up, I been runnin' up nothin' but the money, yeah

[Outro]
(AudHouse)