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live it up (dirty main) - natural elements lyrics

[verse 1: a-b-tta]
yo, i get high
from ny to pr, dr, doing
cpr on the mic, living it up. i’m wild
in the cut, slide in a sl-t, knotting your gut
wine in my cup, my mind is corrupt. i’m trying to find
dollars like puff, rhyming and stuff. it feel it
i’m on the bus on my way to rikers island in cuffs
speeding, we’re leaving life in the dust, and when i puff
my eyes stay shut—who higher than us? [?] i rep
for my elements fam and the rest of the clan
jetting the land—‘nough respect to my fans—step in the jam
with my fitted cap tilt to the back, l in my hand
sipping ‘nac, getting wet as i can, falling out
sh-t, it’s all about money and moves—i told y’all
a 100-proof all in my juice, i’m stoned, y’all
so toasted, i swore i saw soda on straws
is you with me? i know y’all are, so let’s go

[hook: l-swift and (a-b-tta)] (x2)
n.e. (letting it blow), plus (getting the dough)
we be (checking your ho) while you (sweating the flows)
hydro, (twist it up, and to all my)
fly hoes (giving it up definitely)

[verse 2: mr. voodoo]
you’ll get
splashed here. i’ll murder things—it’s the cashmere
purge your king while you take orders like you a cashier
at burger king—here’s a full-pound flame-broiled
egg with foil—now your whole game’s spoiled. my name’s
a pseudonym for oil like gain in aluminum foil
furthermore, i perform murder pure
plus my brain got a pistol’s curvature—n-ggas
getting claps like they was born in a dirty wh0r-. rapping’s
a dirty ch0r-—when it’s time to flip, i got the black
tape on the trigger, the hammer, and the grip. i’m clapping
at kids—abandon your ship. take it to trial
get a slap on the wrist. i’m capping it crisp but celebrate
like a crooked capitalist. we elevate
look, kid. n0body rapping like this (for real)

[verse 3: l-swift]
yo, we’re sl!cker than most
n. quickest with toast on both coast
wicked with flows. chickens approach and most boast
‘bout the sh-t they got, how many n-ggas done l!cked
their crotch. i pick their lock and ‘vict their spot, and keep
my chronic in a six-day stock, smoke on the green
this rap sh-t need change like a soda machine. i know
the scene like the back of my hand, i spit thunder
stack up a grand, don’t care about getting no trick number
‘cause, you know, money make moves and moves make money
big-up natural e like a soldier salute their country
if p.o.w.’s are m.i.a., my gun go
“p-o-w,” i blam my ways. in what direction
should i send my strays? look around, you might notice
i focus on what i gotta do. you type bogus
and the crew you run with ain’t willing to scr-p with you
get phillies and mac’s with you, they’re spilling your fat tissue
i’m spitting the gat issue, evenly share portions
before i shoot, i stick my tongue out like air jordan

[hook: l-swift and (a-b-tta)]
n.e. (letting it blow), plus (getting the dough)
we be (checking your ho) while you (sweating the flows)
hydro, (twist it up, and to all my)
fly hoes (giving it up definitely)
n.e. (letting it blow), plus (getting the dough)
we be (checking your ho) while you (sweating the flows)
hydro, (twist it up, and to all my)
fly hoes (giving it up definitely)
n.e. (letting it blow), plus (getting the dough)
we be (checking your ho) while you (sweating the flows)
hydro, (twist it up right in front of)
5-0 (not giving a f-ck, definitely)
n.e. (letting it blow), plus (getting the dough)
we be (checking your ho) while you (sweating the flows)
hydro, (twist it up right in front of)
5-0 (not giving a f-ck, word up)

- natural elements lyrics

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