Up On Things (feat. Snoop Dogg)

Uh, yeah

Walk with me, west coast

Yeah, yeah

It's the coast to coast G on the check in

Yeah, uh, uh, ride, ride, ride, uh

If you ain't up on things

Fabulous is the name

Street fame is the game

Screaming seven-one-eight while them hammers bang

Like bludda ludda lacca, bludda ludda lacca

Kick game like I know a little bit of soccer

Spic dames, ass and a little bit of knockas

Give 'em nicknames and a little bit of vodka

Then I'm game change, a very freaky girl

You know who got the gold like the kid from the Last Dragon

You know who got the low on the spokes and the ass sagging

You know who got the gold that'll have you ass gagging

You know who got the boat that'll have the task nagging

But I fuck bitches and get money

My truck switches like

You got to duck bitches when you get twenties

And plug switches that make you sit funny

I'm a rider

If you ain't up on things

Don't come close to me

Unless you ride like you supposed to be

If you ain't up on things

Don't come close to me

Unless you pimping like you supposed to be

If you ain't up on things

Don't come close to me

Unless you banging like you supposed to be

If you ain't up on things

Don't come close to me

Unless you gangsta like you supposed to be

C'mon, you know it's Gs up, CO's down

If I freeze up it's kilos now

Pick trees up it's three, four pounds

Fill the bees up till these bros drown

I snatch a few Gs up and flee those towns

Busters freeze up when my V slow down

I ease up with these four pounds

Squeeze up to three, four rounds

I pick these up, it's G code now

Y'all better call the D's up before I reload now

I'm the Boss something like Springsteen

I got something that bring green

That look something like string beans

I make sure the hustlers keep something to sling the fiends

White, yellow, and a little something that bling green

We going to blast if we draw 'em

I been doing this since Jabbar was hooking off the glass in the forum

Your grandparents has to assume

'Cause the face look like a magnifying glass on the poem

Oh, boy

If you ain't up on things

Don't come close to me

Unless you ride like you supposed to be

If you ain't up on things

Don't come close to me

Unless you pimping like you supposed to be

So my ****, they get money

Throw your motherfucking hands in the air

And if you up on things and you don't give a fuck

Let me hear y'all **** scream, oh yeah

And all my bitches, they get money

Throw your motherfucking hands in the air

And if you up on things and you don't give a fuck

Let me hear y'all bitches scream, oh yeah

It's the kid with the D-O-double-G

After blowing three, four dubs of trees

My eyes are below double Gs

After sipping Pinot, bubbly skee O, rubbing me

We'll probably go below publicly

I'm a coast to coast G

I keep the toast to mostly

For those who pose to closely

Keep a piece in the vest that's how we ride

From the north to the south to the east to the west

So my ****, they get money

Throw your motherfucking hands in the air

And if you up on things and you don't give a fuck

Let me hear y'all **** scream, oh yeah

And all my bitches, they get money

Throw your motherfucking hands in the air

And if you up on things and you don't give a fuck

Let me hear y'all bitches scream, oh yeah

Uh