Lil Wyte - That's Whats Up lyrics
[Lil Wyte - That's Whats Up lyrics]
Cold purple sprite full of 'line in my cup
Yeah, that's what's up!
Yeah, that's what's up!
All the haters in the hood
Make me wanna cock and bust
Yeah, that's what's up!
Yeah, that's what's up!
I done made a lot of money
Ain't to many that trust
Yeah, that's what's up!
Yeah, that's what's up!
But, I'm a keep on hustlin'
Till my body turn into dust
Yeah, that's what's up!
Yeah, that's what's up!
I was born an raised a good old southern boy
With money up on my mind
Took a thought turned it into a rhyme
And now I do this shit all the time
Purple 'line in my cup
I'm throwin' a blunt of 'dro up in my mouth
And I feel pimps in forthly
We the shit y'all need to
Quit hating on the south
Cause we just trying to make it like all
The rest of them mother fuckers is
I got talent and raw skills to pay the bills
So I'm gonna rock the biz
Call me what you wanna call me
Arrogant, evilish and conceited
I will sell CD's off in Sicily, Italy
Also in New Zealand
Get mad international money
Climbin' higher up that ladder
Grindin' daily, bitch, pay me
I gotta' get my pockets fatter
Memphis Tennessee is the place
Where I got all my special training
Physical, mental, lyrical, spiritual
Achieved it all without complainin' i got a
I'm a mothafuckin' nympho rubbin' tip toes
Sippin' line in the back of a benzo'
Hate me last year wait till this year
You gonna have a lot more shit to be sick fo'
Runnin' the street and not givin' a fuck
Still makin big money and get my dick suck
I'm a hold it down for my town
At the same time
Goin' to town to get some more bucks
If you gotta problem wit that
Bring it to the hood find me on my block
And I'll kick your ass ride on the same
Cause we done whooped plenty of mothafuckas
Just for talking all that trash
We don't give a shit bitch
That's just the mentality of the dirty south
Nobody really left the house hot
Ready to fight
But, you better watch your mouth
I roll with some of the rowdiest, buckest
Crunkest fucka's in the nation
And even if you keep me slippin' solo
You won't bust a raisin serious though
I got dough you broke, and know the score
Purple sprite and paper flow
While you busy hatin' ho'
Yeah, that's what's up!
Yeah, that's what's up!
All the haters in the hood
Make me wanna cock and bust
Yeah, that's what's up!
Yeah, that's what's up!
I done made a lot of money
Ain't to many that trust
Yeah, that's what's up!
Yeah, that's what's up!
But, I'm a keep on hustlin'
Till my body turn into dust
Yeah, that's what's up!
Yeah, that's what's up!
I was born an raised a good old southern boy
With money up on my mind
Took a thought turned it into a rhyme
And now I do this shit all the time
Purple 'line in my cup
I'm throwin' a blunt of 'dro up in my mouth
And I feel pimps in forthly
We the shit y'all need to
Quit hating on the south
Cause we just trying to make it like all
The rest of them mother fuckers is
I got talent and raw skills to pay the bills
So I'm gonna rock the biz
Call me what you wanna call me
Arrogant, evilish and conceited
I will sell CD's off in Sicily, Italy
Also in New Zealand
Get mad international money
Climbin' higher up that ladder
Grindin' daily, bitch, pay me
I gotta' get my pockets fatter
Memphis Tennessee is the place
Where I got all my special training
Physical, mental, lyrical, spiritual
Achieved it all without complainin' i got a
I'm a mothafuckin' nympho rubbin' tip toes
Sippin' line in the back of a benzo'
Hate me last year wait till this year
You gonna have a lot more shit to be sick fo'
Runnin' the street and not givin' a fuck
Still makin big money and get my dick suck
I'm a hold it down for my town
At the same time
Goin' to town to get some more bucks
If you gotta problem wit that
Bring it to the hood find me on my block
And I'll kick your ass ride on the same
Cause we done whooped plenty of mothafuckas
Just for talking all that trash
We don't give a shit bitch
That's just the mentality of the dirty south
Nobody really left the house hot
Ready to fight
But, you better watch your mouth
I roll with some of the rowdiest, buckest
Crunkest fucka's in the nation
And even if you keep me slippin' solo
You won't bust a raisin serious though
I got dough you broke, and know the score
Purple sprite and paper flow
While you busy hatin' ho'