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up - only1skoota lyrics

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[verse 1]
dermira, dermira, whoa
all of these hunnids, they old
no, i’m not sellin’ my soul
ice on my neck and it cold
put vs n the patek, my wrist, yeah, it’s flooded
draped up, dripped out in gucci garments tucked in with the skully
all these b-tches want to f-ck me ‘cause they see that havin’ all of a sudden
uh, ice in my double cup, styrofoam muddy
she throw it back on the d-ck extra sl-tty
new york fashion on me, drippin’ in stussy
take the pj to the ice box, i’ma buss it
coach-lla and rollin’ loud, crowd surfin’
i’m tryna get in her throat just like a slurpy
they hate that i made it, i went up on purpose
i’m not worth that cappin’, i’m like this in person
i’m k!llin’ this fashion, this sh-t a emergency
hundred-twenty-five-thousand if you want a verse from me
only1skoota, i know that you heard of me

[chorus]
drop the addy, baby, send the location (yeah)
pull up on you in a coupe and it’s sp-cious
i’m havin’ all type of different faces
i’m havin’ my way with this drip, it’s contagious
too many racks on me, no, they ain’t foldin’
buss the bag down the middle with my whoadies
we got the streets, you know that they chose up
too many haters, these n-ggas be bogus
big bag, i’ma stack it and bag it up
bag it up, bag it up
slap her on the -ss with a rack, bet that she back it up
back it up back it up
no, we not cool, you ain’t gettin’ no dappin’ up
dappin’ up, dappin’ up
f-ck out my face or the gang, they actin’ up
actin’ up, actin’ up

[verse 2]
double cup filled with the act’ in it, act’ in it
big bag, b-tch, i’m stackin’ it, stackin’ it
she got some’ back on her, know i’m attackin’ it
big straps, i ain’t lackin’, bih, lackin’, bih
stack up them commas, finger f-ck them hundreds
saks fifth and lenox, f-ckin’ up some commas
mason margiela, steppin’ in some foreigns
snake wrapped around me like i’m in the jungle
double cup styrofoam, no moët
punch it in, i ain’t writin’, i’m not a poet
bad lil’ b-tch with me and she goin’ southwest fours up, you know i’m knowin’
knicks game, front seat at the garden
draped up, dripped out, gucci garments
canary yellow diamonds like macaronic
poppin’ sh-t, it come with havin’ haters, don’t it?
skinny n-gga, pockets loaded, b-tch, i’m boney
bitin’ on the drip, i knew you was a cloney
lot of n-ggas out here fakin’ and they phoney
if hatin’ was a job, swear you’ll get a bonus

[chorus]
drop the addy, baby, send the location
pull up on you in a coupe and it’s sp-cious
i’m havin’ all type of different faces
i’m havin’ my way with this drip, it’s contagious
too many racks on me, no, they ain’t foldin’
buss the bag down the middle with my whoadies
we got the streets, you know that they chose up
too many haters, these n-ggas be bogus
big bag, i’ma stack it and bag it up
bag it up, bag it up
slap her on the -ss with a rack, bet that she back it up
back it up back it up
no, we not cool, you ain’t gettin’ no dappin’ up
dappin’ up, dappin’ up
f-ck out my face or the gang, they actin’ up
actin’ up, actin’ up

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