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hold up - geechi gotti lyrics

[intro: geechi gotti]
ooh, ky
this the one
third time’s a charm
drop it, drop it

[verse 1: geechi gotti]
hold up, hold up, hold up (hold up)
i’m f*ckin’ rich, n*gga
hold up, hold up, hold up (hold up)
i could f*ck your b*tch, n*gga (yeah)
i come from the 6, n*gga (yeah)
grew up hittin’ l!cks, n*gga (yeah)
drivin’ foriegn whips, n*gga (skrrt!)
trap house full of bricks in ‘em
i could make a call and get your man shot (blaow, blaow)
i seen my big homies get rich up off some d*mn pots (yeah)
in my ‘hood, i’m big dog like it’s sandlot (hold up, hold up, hold up)
pull up blowin’ hand c*cked, they dread it like it’s jamrock
baby, i ain’t hatin’, i got more than what your man got (i got mo’)
he might need a job * why he out here wit’ his hand out? (what he doin’?)
chopper wit’ a beam, look like somethin’ off of star wars
i know it look like wings when they lift up, they still car doors (hold up)
money ain’t a thing, watch me blow it on a freak b*tch
put a couple features on the glock, now this a remix
steady makin’ plays, lil’ buddy, where your defense?
you been on some weak sh*t
hold up, watch the beat flip, n*gga (yeah)
[hook: geechi gotti]
hold up, hold up, hold up
i’mma act a ass on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
watch me spend this cash on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
i’mma drive all fast on ‘em
i’mma do the dash on ‘em
f*ck her, then i pass on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
i’mma act a ass on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
watch me spend this cash on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
i’mma drive all fast on ‘em
i’mma do the dash on ‘em
f*ck her, then i pass on ‘em

[verse 2: calicoe]
yeah, yeah, aye
stuff her wit’ some d*ck, then stuff her for the road
i love my baby mama, all my b*tches know
take a trip to cali, we gon’ pimp the ho
aye, i ain’t got my buff, so i don’t wanna smoke
in the club eatin’ lamb chops, b*tch, i feel like the goat
all that talkin’ got yo’ mans hot, they put him in the scope
all that lackin’ got yo’ mans popped, you put him in yo’ post
all that rappin’ got yo’ ass hot, you gotta live it, though
travel state*to*state wit’ that bag, i’m on my pivot, though
they’ll send you upstate for the max, for that fentanyl
when i be out the way wit’ this rap, feel like i’m gettin’ off
i hit the strip club and i’m happy long as my n*ggas ball
aye, you cryin’ ‘bout them petty*ass problems: that sh*t miniscule
i’m on the road in a suit and tie, doin’ 10 to 2
stuffin’ pies, duckin’ uncle ra for a interview
‘cause i can’t even tell him what i’m finna do
[hook: geechi gotti]
hold up, hold up, hold up
i’mma act a ass on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
watch me spend this cash on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
i’mma drive all fast on ‘em
i’mma do the dash on ‘em
f*ck her, then i pass on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
i’mma act a ass on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
watch me spend this cash on ‘em
hold up, hold up, hold up
i’mma drive all fast on ‘em
i’mma do the dash on ‘em
f*ck her, then i pass on ‘em

- geechi gotti lyrics

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