Q-Popi - Yer a Bum lyrics

P-Pullz (ft. Arjay Mian, Jorrell Redsun, Q-Popi, and Stelf Index) ft. Poison Pen - “Yer a Bum” [Produced by Stelf Index] [Hook: P-Pullz] Hands in the air like, “Give me what you got” Ass shake with that wiggley, wiggley, wiggle Rich bum, poor bum, suburbs, city slums Yer a bum, bum, bum. Bah, yer a bum [Verse 1: Arjay Mian] Quick, fast, stash, stash. Price last—never slash Priceless, might stress. Bat bash, leave mess Who the hell is this? (What?). No recollection Take up collection to reconstruct face Run race, I'm carefree and sugarless You never heard cab confession quite like this Hot nine, 7-Eleven top earner Yer a bum. Burn you Bronx to Brooklyn [Verse 2: Poison Pen] Yo, N.A. Baracus Brooklyn's realest. Bed Stuy We try your sh** on before we steal it N.A. rocker, slumped-over posture of Chewbacca We don't recruit—take that Stronghold application out your pocket Every female fan is potential puss If they roll deep, then there's more friends for us The lifestyle at the “Top of the Food Chain.” We come Over hung over with enough dick To shift your shorty's lung over. I don't know What I love more: hip hop or them locked- -door strip spots, where hands-on experience is bad Me and Jorrell ran up a tab [Verse 3: Jorrell Redsun] The threads I wear make me look sharp Never be an old fart. I kick hind parts Sly fox trails, sailboat, fresh ox tails Know sh** like an Oxford student Tough Mentadent. Car crash meant to dent it Steel Cadillac against fibergla** rented Hai Karate, cologne scented. It works And I'm a bum for life just like red alert [Hook: P-Pullz] (x2) Hands in the air like, “Give me what you got” Ass shake with that wiggley, wiggley, wiggle Rich bum, poor bum, suburbs, city slums Yer a bum, bum, bum. Bah, yer a bum [Verse 4: Stelf Index] My very aura intimidates, make a** shake Bounce the ground ‘til the world hurls. Tip your gla**es Cla** action. Ladies take me like rations High ratio of them will be back to back it up I like backs stacked like, “What a bum, bum” Beat it like B.F.M. Productions Wild, cause harm. Pressure? Stay calm Bare arms and the taste of your mouth on my palms [Verse 5: Arjay Mian] Wild herd of cattle trample like angry camel For touching humps, brand you, pa** obstacles Stop me? That's impossible. Yes, trying to hail Me down, I reign terror. You fail to change I hit you in head with cash register. My buddies Give pounds, pull pound, eat pound cake No mistake/Miss Take (What?) like lady thief My name alone'll make you soil your brief I don't need gun. Just a stone to rock Basketball center wearing bulletproof vest. Cannot block these shots Excursion in yellow expedition (Yes) with Chick giving me turban (Yes, thank you) [Hook: P-Pullz] (x4) Hands in the air like, “Give me what you got” Ass shake with that wiggley, wiggley, wiggle Rich bum, poor bum, suburbs, city slums Yer a bum, bum, bum. Bah, yer a bum