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mr fuck your club up - fbg young lyrics

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[intro]
(flex, flex, flex, flex, flex)
ayy, ayy, flex, this all a freestyle, so if i f*ck up, [?]
i don’t give no—

[verse]
book me for a show, yeah, i’m mr. “f*ck your club up”
huh, uh, b*tch, yeah, i f*ck your club up
huh, on the couch, smokin’ loud, yeah, huh, uh*yeah
b*tch, huh, huh, yeah, ayy
book me for a show, yeah, i’m mr. “f*ck your club up”
last year wasn’t on sh*t, prices goin’ up
[?] your sh*t, yeah, gon’ get your nipped, tucked
don’t throw money on hoes, baby, pick your clothes up
should’ve mind your business, b*tch, we’ll wipe ya nose, yeah
told her what my net worth and she d*mn near froze up
she wanna see my network, told that b*tch to hold up
i was stealin’ folks ‘nem fiends whеn they closed up
downtown takin’ sh*t, f*ckin’ the sixth floor
usеd to be down bad, but now i got my dough up
wooski used to hit the line, he was eatin’ cold cut
i got kicked up outta school, then i set up shop
back when l’z had the glock and bt had the spot, ayy
we was some hard knocks, ain’t got my money, b*tch, why not?
didn’t i front you elbows? you must don’t want your elbows
baby ‘k got [?], free my brother until he home
sleepin’ with that b*tch like we s*xin’
talkin’ to the money like alexa (alexa, play “go dumb”)
ooh, i love the chop’, give me erections
ring around the rosie, pull up, turn your ass to ashes
ooh, i don’t need friends, just all hypes
knock the eye out ya lookin’*ass n*ggas, kimbo slice
brand*new bentley on ones, drove twice
i might do the f*ckin’ dash if i see red and blue lights
i’m so f*ckin’ legal, got no license, got my pipe
think it was a setup on my way to serve some hypes
my granny said, “boy, you really need to change your life”
i’m steady poppin’ middies, pourin’ d’ussé down some sprite
she say i should stop cheatin’, take your own advice
these n*ggas say they out here slidin’, don’t believe the hype, i just might
do two shows, n*gga, and buy some ice
[?], don’t see n0body in my rearview
got no [?] all hollows to give you
not a gentleman, i’m d*gg*n’ b*tches and that’s simple
diamonds in no light, cool and polite
don’t know i got the glock because the diesel fittin’ tight
and they got some benjis and they loaded with ’em twice
them reapers want your life, they just geekin’ up all night
they slidin’, they listenin’ to “slide”
that skoo*do*dah [?]
we seekin’ and n*ggas is hidin’
that face shot, can’t survive
on the couch, smokin’ loud, f*ck your club up, uh
my lil’ shooter like a barber, he give ya haircuts
chew*chew train since potty train, we never cuff sl*ts
f*ck your plug, shop with me, i sponsor dubs [?], b*tch
huh, i’m smokin’ ‘erbs
me no talkin’ sh*t, ooh, my spooky words
he still dissin’ on the dead for clout, he got the nerve
anywhere i shoot it out, b*tch, i got the urge

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