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Its Up (Freestyle) Video (MV)




Performed By: Lil Keed
Length: 2:39
Written by: Raqhid Jevon Render, Tahj Morgan




Lil Keed - Its Up (Freestyle) Lyrics
Official




Yeah, what 'bout them
Huh, yeah, what 'bout them
Ooh, yeah, what 'bout them
Wassup?
Oh Lord, Jetson made another one
Keed talk to 'em

Walked in, walked in, this Bentley truck is crawlin'
Gucci sweatsuit, yeah, they thought I was joggin'
I'm just gettin' these frontends, these backends, these racks in
Nigga, f*ck your plug, heard he taxin', we whack him
Bitch, I'm ballin' out, I got bad bitches in my house, yeah
Yeah, that ho too lazy, I get in her mouth then I kick her out
Yeah, Chanel shoe box full of racks, no safe in the house
Yeah, these bitches see me bring these racks to the club, they fallin' out
I'ma Milly Rock, yeah, with that Richard Mille
Yeah, these niggas envy, put racks on their head like beanies
Yeah I crashed the Scat Pack, but it was not rented
Yeah, these racks in my pants extra green like spinach
Ooh, ooh, in this hoe mouth
Like she lost her tooth, with some Crips too
But I'm big Blood, blatt, blatt, shoot at his roof
YSL the gang, she see the chain, she tryna choose
Bitch, I'm with your hoe, yeah, yeah, with your hoe
Last night with your hoe, the whole gang did your hoe
Pass her back, bro, that's so you aught to know
She heard he low, yeah, I'm jerkin' in her throat
Huh, she know that these racks in
I remember back then, she was actin', I don't need no help with no backend
Glock with a dick, I ain't wrestlin', might go, Draco
A hundred shots, we ain't wrestlin', huh, yeah
I go put a backend up, I put my main hoe up
Now that her best friend know, slime got a blicky, aye, yeah
Kick that hoe right out the spot, I put my power in there
Yeah, when you see me, know they red flaggin', yeah
Back from my boy Gump's, (Choo-choo) yeah (Go)
And we just left LA, smokin' exotic strains, yeah
Yeah, yeah, CC, cop 'em by the pairs
Yeah, yeah, just off Triller, I make a mil'
Yeah, yeah, double CC on the chairs
Yeah, yeah, havin' Fear of God drip for real
Yeah, yeah, snake on the shirts, not no bears
Yeah, yeah, chopper hit him, hope he left a will
Yeah, yeah, Keed gon' get these racks up early mornin'
Gettin' in, yeah, I love these racks
Yeah, we smokin' OG while I count these racks
Yeah, we smoked your OG 'cause he is a rat
Yeah, young handsome oily, no need for old shit
Yeah, these hoes annoying, in the trap house, they blowin' me
My white boy a hippie, smokin' that shit just like he Marley
Opp nigga, I ain't runnin', nigga, try me, they gon' charge me
You talkin' 'bout I changed, nah, bitch, you just borin'
She said, "Man, you changin'", nah, nah, uh, uh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Yeah, what 'bout them
Huh, yeah, what 'bout them
Ooh, yeah, what 'bout them
Wassup?
Oh Lord, Jetson made another one
Keed talk to 'em

Walked in, walked in, this Bentley truck is crawlin'
Gucci sweatsuit, yeah, they thought I was joggin'
I'm just gettin' these frontends, these backends, these racks in
Nigga, f*ck your plug, heard he taxin', we whack him
Bitch, I'm ballin' out, I got bad bitches in my house, yeah
Yeah, that ho too lazy, I get in her mouth then I kick her out
Yeah, Chanel shoe box full of racks, no safe in the house
Yeah, these bitches see me bring these racks to the club, they fallin' out
I'ma Milly Rock, yeah, with that Richard Mille
Yeah, these niggas envy, put racks on their head like beanies
Yeah I crashed the Scat Pack, but it was not rented
Yeah, these racks in my pants extra green like spinach
Ooh, ooh, in this hoe mouth
Like she lost her tooth, with some Crips too
But I'm big Blood, blatt, blatt, shoot at his roof
YSL the gang, she see the chain, she tryna choose
Bitch, I'm with your hoe, yeah, yeah, with your hoe
Last night with your hoe, the whole gang did your hoe
Pass her back, bro, that's so you aught to know
She heard he low, yeah, I'm jerkin' in her throat
Huh, she know that these racks in
I remember back then, she was actin', I don't need no help with no backend
Glock with a dick, I ain't wrestlin', might go, Draco
A hundred shots, we ain't wrestlin', huh, yeah
I go put a backend up, I put my main hoe up
Now that her best friend know, slime got a blicky, aye, yeah
Kick that hoe right out the spot, I put my power in there
Yeah, when you see me, know they red flaggin', yeah
Back from my boy Gump's, (Choo-choo) yeah (Go)
And we just left LA, smokin' exotic strains, yeah
Yeah, yeah, CC, cop 'em by the pairs
Yeah, yeah, just off Triller, I make a mil'
Yeah, yeah, double CC on the chairs
Yeah, yeah, havin' Fear of God drip for real
Yeah, yeah, snake on the shirts, not no bears
Yeah, yeah, chopper hit him, hope he left a will
Yeah, yeah, Keed gon' get these racks up early mornin'
Gettin' in, yeah, I love these racks
Yeah, we smokin' OG while I count these racks
Yeah, we smoked your OG 'cause he is a rat
Yeah, young handsome oily, no need for old shit
Yeah, these hoes annoying, in the trap house, they blowin' me
My white boy a hippie, smokin' that shit just like he Marley
Opp nigga, I ain't runnin', nigga, try me, they gon' charge me
You talkin' 'bout I changed, nah, bitch, you just borin'
She said, "Man, you changin'", nah, nah, uh, uh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Raqhid Jevon Render, Tahj Morgan
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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