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man up - cash kidd & bfb da packman lyrics

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[intro: ben e. king & cash kidd]
by me
oh, stand by me (you recording, anton?)
oh, stand (good)
’cause i want to let them n*ggas know they hoes, haha (stand by me)
stand by me
ayy (d*mn, machu, why you had to do ’em like that?)

[verse 1: cash kidd]
boy, my life cost an arm and a leg, huh
punk, some pizza, extra parm’ on the bread, huh
bust a fat nut, now talk to the hand, huh
feel like beyoncé, had to start with a band
a hundred on me while i’m parallel parkin’ the benz
thunder on me while i’m playin’ at the park with my kid, n*gga
ain’t stressed out, but i’m holding a sig
caps lock, boy, this fn on me is big, alright
juuggin’, schemin’, finessin’ a sport
all my opps in heaven, of course
alright, ooh, i love just slappin’ a dork
blower hangin’ on my neck like a ref’ on a court
speaking of ref’, your b*tch said she never traveled before
i gave her so much d, how did she manage to score?
new loft, still empty, i got neck on the floor
finna stab off in a lamb’ like i grabbed me a fork, alright
[chorus: cash kidd]
n*gga kept hatin’ on kidd, got his b*tch f*cked
my b*tch gettin’ rich off her feet like she kick punts
get the neck, tune a b*tch out like the chipmunks
sittin’ on my ass, catchin’ packs like the sit*ups
i go anywhere i f*ckin’ want ’cause i’m sticked up
get to flippin’ out in this b*tch like i’m chris tuck’
heard you took your b*tch back again, p*ssy, man up
in the escalade, between her legs, n*gga, and1

[verse 2: cash kidd]
my name what her tat’ say
these cubans annoying, i wake up with neck pains
d*ck on the nina, stick got a s*x change
with your b*tch, she gon’ bob more than a hair page
drunk, using stolen credit cards on the airplane, huh
told her we mint, she gave me gums like my breath stank, huh
he up in court, pointin’ quick like a fast break
he tryna get let out by twelve like a half*day
ain’t gotta look for no glocks ’cause we fly with ’em
dripped in water, now they wanna hang, they like icicles
took three hundred out, they had to order it
turned my safe to a gum ball machine, just put a quarter in
finna slide down a n*gga block when i get bored again
p*ssy*ass n*gga better duck like oregon, huh
yo’ b*tch never got on pants, she like porky pig
i just hit the b*tch from the side like a corner blitz
[chorus: cash kidd & bfb da packman]
n*gga kept hatin’ on kidd, got his b*tch f*cked
my b*tch gettin’ rich off her feet like she kick punts
get the neck, tune a b*tch out like the chipmunks
sittin’ on my ass, catchin’ packs like the sit*ups
i go anywhere i f*ckin’ want ’cause i’m sticked up
get to flippin’ out in this b*tch like i’m chris tuck’ (brrt)
heard you took your b*tch back again (yello), p*ssy, man up
in the escalade, between her legs n*gga, and1 (the lunch crew company)

[verse 3: bfb da packman]
i’m a ghetto ass flint n*gga
mixing fentanyl in granny’ house, i left a stench in it
sipping wockhardt in the fanta, we don’t sip henny
take a picture with a bb*dub, that’s a big image
if i was jewish, no cap, i would’ve k!lled hitler
white b*tch with a bbl and some lip fillers
i love all my hoes, but i pimp ’em, think i’m kris jenner
i cut her off quick, she ain’t moan when i put d*ck in her
ayy, rich n*gga in a honda civic
parents serve my custos while i’m gone, b*tch, my mama different
slide in dms, on opp, and slidin’ giffys
feds question me ’bout some sh*t
haha, n*gga, lock me up
give me the std right now, b*tch, condoms suck
so much d*mn ice on bro’ neck, we can slide a puck
long as i got some pape’, these hoes’ll let a llama f*ck

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