Hold Up! (feat. DellaPia!, Isaac Elmer, King Bubbles)

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Leane

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Baby, you know I love you
You know I ain't a bitch to let a motherfucker hurt you
I'm all about you, and then I'm all about your circle
I'm friends with all the ladies in the club, but you're the special one
Baby let me slide, right into em DMS
I can give you 50 bucks if you let me see em
She talkin Spanish on my dick, talk, speaking Korean
She doin foreign languages then she talk European
Hold up
So you Bri-ish?
I'm talking bout fittest bitch
Are you the richest?
The money look like counterfeits
My best interest
My best lookin rap outfit
When I spit this
Gimme a minute fore' I diminish you motherfuckers
I'm all about the ruckus
You cold-hearted suckers, I'll finish you motherfuckers
I'll put a tag on you like the K9 unit, you dog
All you bitches barkin at me we might just have a problem
Yo, it's DellaPia on the track
Got a whole lotta money shawty spending racks
Yo girl she wanna tap me, I ain't fuckin with that
Only speakin bout the money only talkin bout facts, yeah
Umma pull in my convertible
Shawty like it when I pull with no roof cuz it's cool
Like damn, got a whip when I'm driving this shit
I got my boys on the track we only makin hits
Swish, bish, got yo shawty on my hit list
You kinda jealous cuz you really can't f*ck with it
KB where you at? Elmer's bout take the track
Now your girl in trouble cuz she knows that we are back
Got the vroom vroom take you for a drag race
Got the shoes shoes, lighting up my bad days
He want the smoke but you lookin like an ashtray
Got the money in my pocket in my stash aye
Do you want the money? (Yeah of course I do)
Or do you want yo fuckin honey around? (That too)
Do you want more friends? (I guess)
Then make sure you the money around, pussy
How the f*ck you think you'll make a living aye
Write some lyrics, bout fuckin on a shawty aye
(But what if the lyrics aren't even true?)
Get the f*ck off my set boy, f*ck you!
I don't need no compliments from no hunny aye
I been tryna get my flex up in a hurry aye
Why the f*ck you tryna talk back, bitch slap
Why the f*ck you tryna run that, f*ck that
I don't want no fucking bitch you a slut slut (Schlat schlat)
She gone drop a fucking diss like she's Kodak
I been tryna let you know, bitch you gotta calm down
Man these drugs ain't shit bitch fucking calm down
I'm like hello
Bitch you kinda mellow, tryna find them friendly fellows
Like it's bread though
Umma pull up, umma rap in ghettos
You play the chello, but not as yellow
Just like my chain, bitches yelling out my name
You can't say that we the same, I've been watching all your games
Tryna see how you gone play, and it's true
Safe to prove, that you bitches gonna lose
Sippin juice, in the booth
Tryna f*ck her til she loose, like we on vacation aye
Spanish Mama call me pappi wanna suck on my dick
Gettin down and dirty when she want my cum on her clit
Niggas talkin shit, till I'm pulling up with a stick
Tell em pull up to the party, could we all get it lit
Yeah hot shit
Yeah bop shit
Yeah, hot girl summer these bitches want it? We f*ck shit
Yeah like a rocket, we gone top shit
Yea pussy niggas gone f*ck with us when we drop shit (Wait really?)
I ain't the type of nigga that you really go for
She gimme sloppy to toppy then call that One Four
Take whatever I get, I do not ask for more
Do not call me again not on my echelon
Lemme tell you sum that you never heard before
You ain't nothin but a lil skanky, panty, whore
I got too many niggas I gotta bounty for
And I got too many diamonds that you just can't afford

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