Ty Dolla Sign (Ty Dolla $ign) - Up On the Wall lyrics

[Produced by DJ Battlecat] [Verse 1: The Game] Old p**y a** mark, b**h a** buster Think you from LA cause you listen to some Mustard This is Battlecat, my n***a Kurupt had the battle raps We go back like four flats on the Cadillac n***a you ain't never been to a hood day You don't know Ice Cube, today was a good day You ain't never been dropped off in the jungles Teared Khakis, red bandana wrapped around your knuckles Me and my brother used to dip down in 'Shaw Stopped at the Weiner Schnitzel, got socked in the jaw By some sixties, I bombed back, the n***a pulled out A strap, said it's 6-0, I ducked then he missed me Now I'm back to Bompton Before I hit the hood, a n***a gotta stop in the Swans And pick up a sack, had fifty for an eighth And I only had fifty, made it last all day Smoking with the homies, My n***a G Weed from Dallas My n***a Hooter from Athens Park stay brackin' Fo' line, deuce line, Bray still active And the Cedars ain't giving no pa**es, why we asking? [Hook: Ty Dolla $ign] How you gon bang if you really ain't from LA We spray your gang up on the wall Tell me And how you gon' fade if you really don't know the dance I see you really don't bang at all Mark-a** [Verse 2: The Game] Murder was the case that they gave Game Cops on the cutla** cause they know a n***a gang bang Red bandana round the rear-view "Where you say you from, Blood?" n***as can't hear you Flag on the left side claiming you a Blood Blue rag on the right side calling n***as cuz Bout to get your mark a** chalked out on the West This for all my n***as in the pen beating on they chest like [Interlude: The Game] I said I need some p**y on my motherf**ing wall And I ain't got my commissary yet I said the next motherf**er try to steal a cigarette He gon' get a f**ing pencil to the neck [Verse 3: YG] That's on the set Ooh, I'm a Tree Top rep, all the Homies know is shoot choppers, handguns and Tecs Not unless my n***as really get it popping Tree Top n***as like the Hoovers in Bompton Big Budda, Syke o, Slim 4, [?] Q-Ball, Lil' Wolf, TK, big back YZ [?] three, two strap Quisha and Miss Lisa, house, where we at It's the gang bang capital, 2 T's capitals Enemies know the business, this sh** is factual Bompton's most hated, f** it, shoot out and fade it So my mama stay awake cause her son be gang banging You don't know about the put ons and DPs Hanging out on the block coming through to squeeze Some outta town n***as disrespecting I see why Suge Knight and Big U was arrested (Can't forget about the Mexicans) And I f** with the villains and the swans on God [Verse 4: The Game] On God I got n***as from Denver Lane that'll ride I got esés that'll k** you at your job I got some lueders by the Weiner Schnitzel Hanging out with the pistols, making sure sh** official Big [?] and they both got stripes Both locked up for life, so if I ever hit the pen I got a squad, hell yeah I'm on that gangsta sh** n***a run up, knockout, he gon' think he's slick Hub in the dub, n***a don't even trip I get you chased by the grapes, n***a 300 crips My n***a Magic from Avalon, Draws from neighbourhood Get your a** dope fiend, slipping in Hollywood Hop from 6-0, Girch from Santana Roc from Nutty Blocc, we tied our bandanas And for my little n***a Frogg I gotta stay active Blood in, Blood out, what's brackin'? [Interlude 2] R.I.P OG TC Shoutout to my big homie Bone from Athens Ridin' down Bentral 'bout to bust a right On Piru street and scoop this n***a Problem up, Blood [Verse 5: Problem] What, green light and yeah it's go time Product out the fo', they can get it off in no time Oh my, did it on my own, no cosign 45, devil in disguise, free dope trial West side, ride 'em off 3rd avenue Go at us, have your shirt wet as Lake Havasu Pop pop diggity drop drop, hopped in a hotbox Smashed off, stashed the Glock, drop it off at the chop shop Boy, dollars only thing make sense Fo' to the duece, rest in peace 4 Bent What [Hook: Ty Dolla $ign] How you gon bang if you really ain't from LA We spray your gang up on the wall Tell me And how you gon' fade if you really don't know the dance I see you really don't bang at all Mark-a**