50 Cent, Kendrick Lamar, Kidd Kidd - We Up lyrics
50 Cent [Curtis James Jackson III]
Kendrick Lamarс [Duckworth] Compton, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[50 Cent, Kendrick Lamar, Kidd Kidd - We Up lyrics]
They don't do it how we do
Niggas ain’t on the shit we on (we on, we on)
Everything new
Spikes on the Louboutins (boutins, boutins)
I'm 'round the bullshit like a matador
I’m used to the bullshit, it don’t matter boy
Corporate acquisitions
Accumulations of wealth
Build with the gods and
Double knowledge of self
Entrepreneur visions, Moulin Rouge religion
That pussy make a weak nigga break down
So what you want, the cheese or the cheeks?
You want the cheeks but she want the cheese
A bitch gotta eat i’m havin’ the epiphany
You niggas ain’t shit to me
Worse than the scum in the slum I’m from
I’m a Southside nigga, yeah, I’m ‘bout mine
You be that next nigga coroners come outline
You ain’t made of what I’m made of
You a bum nigga with a bum bitch
Her shoes come from Bakers
You counterfeit, fraudulent fakers
What kind of rich nigga bitch look like that?
We on now we pullin’ off the lot
Brake, hit the button
Then we pulling down the top
Shine’s on, stuntin’
And I’m pullin’ out a knot
Strapped with the Glock
Won’t pull it out a lot
But front, I’ll make it pop
Y’all don’t do it how we do
Niggas ain’t on the shit we on (we on, we on)
Everything new
Spikes on the Louboutins (boutins, boutins)
We up, nigga!
Visualize everything I needed and dream
(Uh, huh)
Penalized every ho nigga that had a scheme
(What else?)
Guns in your video get you locked in the bing
Yeah, I kill a nigga quick, no worries
My record clean
Murder one become manslaughter as soon
As they brought up (Whoa)
Charity work, parking tickets and no charges
(Oh) fuck nigga you fucked over your father
When he gave you a dick
Should have been a bitch in pajamas
I made my first million fucking dollars
Bought a Bible, oh yeah, God got me
Made my second million dollars
Bought a chopper and binocular i'm scared
This shit don't happen to everybody
I'm on Instagram looking at
Your favorite singer
Debating on should I fuck or
Jump on her single
20 thou, she got a hell of a adlib
I'm in her mouth like I
Knew I could have kids, k-Dot
We on now we pullin’ off the lot
Brake, hit the button
Then we pulling down the top
Shine’s on, stuntin’
And I’m pullin’ out a knot
Strapped with the Glock
Won’t pull it out a lot
But front, I’ll make it pop
Y’all don’t do it how we do
Niggas ain’t on the shit we on (we on, we on)
Everything new
Spikes on the Louboutins (boutins, boutins)
We up, nigga!
Good pussy for dinner
B-bomb kush for breakfast
D colored VS stones around my neck, bitch
It feels like a nigga dreamin’
Seat back, music bumpin’, niggas leanin’
Bullseye, that’s what we came for
The bread, now a nigga run the game, boy
I should’ve sent the broad to
Report what’s in the yard
Aloof livin’, I came up so hard
No pain, no gain, it’s embedded in the brain
I’m in it for the grip, motherfuck the fame
We on now we pullin’ off the lot
Brake, hit the button
Then we pulling down the top
Shine’s on, stuntin’
And I’m pullin’ out a knot
Strapped with the Glock
Won’t pull it out a lot
But front, I’ll make it pop
Y’all don’t do it how we do
Niggas ain’t on the shit we on (we on, we on)
Everything new
Spikes on the Louboutins (boutins, boutins)
We up, nigga!
‘Round the world tourin’, the city got boring
Bury me a G with a new pair of Jordans
Coupe foreign, top peeled like an orange
Blue Ferrari, so many iron horses
Living life with no worries
My gun got a Zodiac sign, it's a Taurus
Don't make it slam on you like Amar'e
M-Zone Rida Gang end the story
Oops, that's your baby, my bad, I'm sorry
She call me daddy too, we should be on Maury
Everything you aren't, fly nigga soaring
Purple label Ralph Lauren
Kick game like Atari
You so special, bedroom or restroom
Just keep performing, go girl
About to film a movie, guess who's starring