Jay Worthy, Kamaiyah, Harry Fraud ft. Ty Dolla $ign - Pull Up Lyrics

Yeah
(La música de Harry Fraud)

Pull up to that party on that gangster tip
I'm with my gangster clique, they let the gangsters in
Pants saggin' on my Forces with a gangster brim
I'm with a gang of hoes and my gangster bitch
She got a strap in her purse, yeah, we got that in
I'm turnt up on blunts off a gang of Hen'
Who them woopin' in my section? Oh, that's gang and them
P hats, B hats, A's and M's
Big Dobie got us trippin', so we faded, shit
Brack one in the head with a fifth of Henny
I bounce back in my Chevy, what's happenin', folk?
P-Funk, no cuts with the rattlin' truck, woah

It go money, hoes, fancy shit
Let the ho choose up, don't ask the bitch
If she come back broke, then that's a simp
And I ain't never slowed down like Actavis
It go money, cars, clothes
Two cribs, one for the hoes
Puff a zoot, I don't play with my nose
And she say I'm the G.O.A.T., well, I suppose

It goes money, hoes, fancy shit
Let the ho choose up, don't ask the bitch
If she come back broke, then that's a simp
If you never knocked nothin', don't ask me shit, pimp

Pull up with some niggas that's gon' gangster walk
I'm a gangster bitch, I'm a gangster broad
Pull up in a coupe, that's a gangster car
On that flashy tip, I'm a gangster star
Bitch, I smell good and I look good
And I fuck good, know this pussy A1
Your bitch pay good, she so flagrant
Roll through Jay hood, nigga, I'ma stay good
Ayy, they tried to knock me off and these hoes all failed
Fuckin' for the clout, but still not gon' sell
I'm miss independent, bitch, I got mail
I got it off the work, bitch, I got scales

It go money, hoes, fancy shit
Let the ho choose up, don't ask the bitch
If she come back broke, then that's a simp
And I ain't never slowed down like Actavis
It go money, cars, clothes
Two cribs, one for the hoes
Puff a zoot, I don't play with my nose
And she say I'm the G.O.A.T., well, I suppose

It goes money, hoes, fancy shit
Money, cars, clothes
Let the ho choose up, don't ask the bitch
Two cribs, one for the hoes
It goes money, hoes, fancy shit
Money, cars, clothes
If you never knocked nothin', don't ask me shit
And she say I'm the G.O.A.T., well, I suppose