U.P.T. (feat. Hot Boys & Big Tymers)

Cash Money slangin' nine ****

(Off top playboy)

H.B.'s and the B.G's

What's happenin' little B.G.?

Bring it to these ****

When I got that iron in my hand, I'm goin' to slang it

When I got that drama on my mind, I'm goin' to bring it

I ain't backin' down from no **** that's Nathan'

If the **** say I ain't 'bout my business, look here, he hatin'

Comin' uptown playboy, we gonna slang it

If I catch you down bad ****, we gonna leave ya stankin'

Fucking with my H.B.'s ****, I'm gonna bring it

Rollin' uptown, stay strap, and keep thinkin'

'Cause a **** get stolen, better yet get takin'

Paper is burn, they come fast, ya can't shake it

Picture this my brother, Cash Money done went nation

But that comes from seven hard years of dedication

Fuckin' with my B.G., ****

I'm puttin' on your face and I'ma **** me a ****

That's believe worth six figures we call hard hitters

We uptown riders and we real with this ****, ****

Police can investigate, but they ain't gonna find shit

But a hundred bullet shells without a fucking fingerprint

This Hot Boy clique laid back and spy on ****

We see them workin' on somethin', look here we riders

Ain't like rookie ****

Any block with a floozy

That go for the boss, too

We ain't got no picks to choose it

We get ya if we gotta

We split ya if we gotta

I know you ain't got word that B.G.'s a rider

So keep it on the D.L.

If you got keys don't serve nobody, but off V.L.

'Cause they play for keeps

A one way ticket to hizell

Six feet deep

It's a filthy dirty rizell

On the U.P.T, I was raised in the streets

But I put it on my mind, by the time I was nine

Look here ****, I was slangin' that nine

Now them them don't want us

They know me and Turk don't fuss in the corners

They already know that we brothers, blood

Or whatever you wanna call it

Click up wit my dog, we get crazy like alcoholics

Plus we ballers, so whatever we spin the Lex or Benz

It's gonna be on  twenny, twen, twens

Get off the block when we come, ****

To the lane, shots that close shop when the bullets start spraying

Run your mouth too much, better watch what cha sayin'

Like a **** on the sideline, **** we ain't playin'

Now why, o why Lord

Did the **** wanna try and die Lord?

**** wanna learn hard way

Give it to 'em like that

Make 'em suffer, put that bitch wit a bag

I guess you probably standin' there sayin', who's the motherfucker?

**** Juv's the motherfucker, that'll be bruise a motherfucker

Either there's been a lot of cross-firin' in the bricks

And I'm gonna **** me a ****

If they put me in that shit

Look, I'm gonna tell ya like I tell my folks

Play with me if you want, Cash Money goin' broke

Even if it means creepin' up slow

Bustin' out shots out my black Volvo, fo' sho'

'Cause ain't nobody gonna run me

I don't want nobody going to tell my momma

When somebody done me

She ain't bring me in the world for that

She ain't raise no ho's

She could have had a girl for that

I been realized, I'm all in

Surrounded by the camouflage, in ballin'

Make a **** recognize, I'm starvin'

Go in and do a homocide, you fallin', stop callin'

'Cause ain't no peace treaties woody

You better not leave that .45 at your house

'Cause you gonna need a woody

I told you boy, I'm a soljah boy

U.T.P up on my stomach from the 'Nolia by

Slangin' nine

Fo' sho' ****

That's how we layin' it down for the ninety-eight

All the way to the ninety-nine

Worldwide

Slangin' nine

All you bus pass **** better recognize

This on here bouncin' all out ya heard me

Ask my **** Prime ****

Ask my ****, Lac ****

Ask my ****, B Dog, ****

Ask Manny, ask Ruckus

As my brother, Corey, ask B. Geezy, ****

Ask Suga Slimm

You ain't got no motherfuckin' heart

Got the butcha knife chillin'

Slicing throats we doin' it like that ****

Ah ha, ah ha

How you love that now ****?

Double that bitch

What's up now ****?

Talk that shit now

What, what's up?

I thought we was what kind of boys

**** what? **** who? What? ****, ha

I know y'all gonna hear me all over the nation

So this is for the East Cost, the South Coast, the West Coast

Over the world

****, ain't no beef, ****

It's 'bout money, **** if you ain't making no money, I can't talk

Shut the fuck up

****, ain't got no words for ya

It's all about the fitty'