DJ B-Do - What Up lyrics

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DJ B-Do - What Up lyrics

[Produced by Boi-1da & DJ B-Do] [Intro: Drake] Yeahhhh, yeah, uhh High Rollers, what's up? Drinks Houston, what's up? Onyx, what's up? You does it baby, you does it baby Harlem Knights, what's up? Treasures, what's up? Legends, what's up? Just love me baby, just love me baby Yeahhhh (yeah) [Verse 1: Drake] To all my Houston Texas country muffins Baby let me hit that liquor and that blunt you puffin And after that, I'mma throw that f**ing Young Money up And we can both watch it fall like it's bungee jumping Man, I'm so high Next time we won't smoke all of the ounce you buy Ooh, I almost forgot to blow the candles out Cause I don't really wanna fall asleep and light this house on fire Good night, I'm still up, I told my girl to lay down I see the bottle is full, I'm 'bout to drink it way down What up Bun my n***a? Man you know we stay down And I'm a honorary resident in UGK town I'm on my way, Yeah I'm on my way I never give a f** about what any n***a say The music all slow and the b**hes all pretty Me and Pimp about to do it for the city in this thang [Hook: Drake] What uuuuuuuuuuuup, what uuuuuuup H-Town in this b**h What uuuuuuuuuuuup, what uuuuuuup Me and Pimp about to do it for the city What uuuuuuuuuuuup, what uuuuuuup What uuuuuuuuuuuup, what uuuuuuup [Verse 2: Pimp C] Uhhhhhh Money by the ton (ton) bricks from crumbs (crumbs) Millionaire from nothin (nothin) mind on hustlin (uhh) p**y's a commodity but dick sells better Wearin Dickies and high shoes to a Cashmere sweater (uhh) Paint done got wetter than it was in nine-fo' (fo') The drank done got thicker and the dirt weed rolled (rolled) Nine-six Impala with the stick on the flo' (flo') Now it's Bentley fo' do's with my 'dro all on the do' (do') Thats light wood n***a Polo, f** Hilfiger ('figer) Jammin Slim Thug (Thug) belly full of d** (d**) Young hogg n***a (n***a) underdog n***a (n***a) Yellow lights on the ground cut through the fog p**y n***a Yellow diamonds on my finger, playin in the car (car) My dick wanna f** but my pockets say stop (stop) Not cause they empty I'm just greedy for some mo' (mo') I need some mo' dough, I'm a P-I-M-P fo' sho' [Hook] [Verse 3: Bun B] What up doe, Young Drizzy Sweet James Jones, Bun Beada Well it's the Trill O.G., I got the neighborhood soul Cause she said I'm gettin blowed, ride and bang and get throwed And the candy painted low (low) chrome grill in front of it Belts on the back of it, my chromey shoes runnin sh** And shorty on the side of me is straight up off the King cover (cover) Don't care what anybody say long as the king love her (love her) Wish I could tell her that I don't but it would k** her I just keep on grippin grain (drippin stain) bein trilla Ain't another brother realer, blowin thousand dollar k**a With that Filipino flow that I just got in from Manila 'Bout to snow up in my city - so let me put on my chinchilla In the 'rari doing Donuts like my name was J Dilla (Dilla) All about the skrilla so just point me to the dealer Keep the work up in the attic and the money in the cellar (cellar) Your girl up in the second, automatics for the fellas (fellas) You see us in the back then all you gotta do is tell us [Outro: Drake] What uuuuuuuuuuuup, what uuuuuuup H-Town in this b**h What uuuuuuuuuuuup, what uuuuuuup H-Town in this b**h What uuuuuuuuuuuup, what uuuuuuup H-Town in this b**h What uuuuuuuuuuuup, what uuuuuuup Me and Pimp about to do it for the city