C-murder - Back Up lyrics

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C-murder - Back Up lyrics

Bob, ya head to this Bob, yo head to that Bob, ya head to this They say I'm crazy but they can't faze me Them chicks be lovin' me 'cause I be thuggin' see I'm just a cut boy, I hang in the cut boy I test 'em up boy, 'cause I don't give a f** boy Now, back the f** up Throw ya hood up Back the f** up Now n***a what Back the f** up Throw ya hood up Back the f** up Now n***a what I ain't trippin' naw, n***a never Any kind of weather, wind or whatever I'm way too clever, status too lifted Talented and gifted, we tossed it, I pitch it A hog in the dog, ball, fall and ball Touch all of y'all, duck off in the fog Sippin', a lil' tipsy, like Nipsy, fortune teller said it look bad She was a gypsy, mean like fiend, a gangsta, nawha mean? Underground, tell I'm under the ground, get the mainstream Pistol packin', totin', smokin' cuttin', throatin', soldier I told ya, back up Rova, it's over They say I'm crazy but they can't faze me Them chicks be lovin' me 'cause I be thuggin' see I'm just a cut boy, I hang in the cut boy I test 'em up boy, 'cause I don't give a f** boy Watch me flippa, flippa, treat em' like a doubie Roll it and spin it fast, just like a Oozie Ain't gone let it blues me, let nothin' get to me Come back hard and star in my own movie If ya think ya know me man, you don't know me I done seen it all and done it all, ain't nothin' you can show me I roll with high rollers and purse snatcha's Cut boys, homie that still cause throw backa's B.G. Skeeza's that count cheese and hold keys Screamin' C, please let me see ya enemies I keep it real like Murda dog and black dog I'm attack dog, waitin' to jack and whack y'all They say I'm crazy but they can't faze me Them chicks be lovin' me 'cause I be thuggin' see I'm just a cut boy, I hang in the cut boy I test em' up boy, 'cause I don't give a f** boy Back the f** up Throw ya hood up Back the f** up Now n***a what Back the f** up Throw ya hood up Back the f** up Now n***a what Ridin' down the wrong way down a one way on a Sunday With a A.K., with the base hay, wildin' out, wildin' out boy With a pocket full of stones, I'm in the zone Do the gangsta walk, do the gangsta bounce Now show ya gold's boy, mean mug that fool Now show ya gold's boy They say I'm crazy but they can't faze me Them chicks be lovin' me 'cause I be thuggin' see I'm just a cut boy, I hang in the cut boy I test em' up boy, 'cause I don't give a f** boy Back the f** up Throw ya hood up Back the f** up Now n***a what Back the f** up Throw ya hood up Back the f** up Now n***a what Once again, you have been listening to An XL and C-murder collaboration Ya know, I told him, if he get me the vocals I could hook him up, ya heard me Holla, holla, holla, holla