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

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 fuck 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 fuck 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 fuck off my set boy, fuck you! I don't need no compliments from no hunny aye I been tryna get my flex up in a hurry aye Why the fuck you tryna talk back, bitch slap Why the fuck you tryna run that, fuck 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 fuck 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 fuck shit Yeah like a rocket, we gone top shit Yea pussy niggas gone fuck 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