Fuck Up Next lyrics by MoneyMarr - original song full text. Official Fuck Up Next lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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MoneyMarr – Fuck Up Next lyrics
[Intro: Moneymarr]
Uh
Uh, uh
Uh, Moneymarr
Uh, uh

[Chorus: Moneymarr]
I'm high off these drugs, this shit got me thinkin', I can't think straight, uh
Moneymarr up now, bitch, fuck up next, nigga, I had to wait, uh
Used to trap on the block with the stick and the Glock, I was fresh out the gate, uh
And before all the fame bitches wasn't on dick, now they all in my face, uh
Bitch, I'm a block star, I'm pushing weight
I get the bags in, come from over the state
Walk down, I'm baking his cake
Try to whip out the stick but it's way too late
I'm smoking on Runtz, shit got me in space
That lil' bitch on my line, told her give me some space
And she bougie and bad, I can tell by her traits
I'ma ice out my neck and Versace my waist

[Verse 1: Warhol. Ss]
The new O-Dog, pick up the Glock and I twist it
I get me a Fanta, then I'ma remix it
Kel-Tec piece, ain't no way that he missin'
Percocet demon, I know 'bout the itchin'
Stones, rocks
Fifty pointers, it'll bust out the clock
When my brody got out, they was callin' the opps
Rockin' Mike Amiri, in the pocket, Zanottis
Yeah, hot boy, nigga, on the block all day
Eating lobster and shrimp with the steak on the plate
I ain't never had shit, nigga, fuck your gang
And I pop my shit, hoes know my name, yeah
We shoot like a hoop, thought it was a game
Was about to serve him but I see he a stain
Slime a nigga out, Abel and Cain
Nigga shootin' but he ain't got the aim
Yeah, yeah, we gon' trap it out just like the A's
In the bando, I back out amazing
Whip the babies, we ain't gotta raise 'em
If my pops got years, he face 'em
I beat the case, droppin' twenty for lawyers
In a foreign, one twenty, we floor it
Put a Rollie on me, that's a mortgage

[Chorus: Moneymarr]
I'm high off these drugs, this shit got me thinkin', I can't think straight, uh
Moneymarr up now, bitch, fuck up next, nigga, I had to wait, uh
Used to trap on the block with the stick and the Glock, I was fresh out the gate, uh
And before all the fame bitches wasn't on dick, now they all in my face, uh
Bitch, I'm a block star, I'm pushing weight
I get the bags in, come from over the state
Walk down, I'm baking his cake
Try to whip out the stick but it's way too late
I'm smoking on Runtz, shit got me in space
That lil' bitch on my line, told her give me some space
And she bougie and bad, I can tell by her traits
I'ma ice out my neck and Versace my waist

[Verse 2: Moneymarr]
Pop me a Perc', I'ma feel like a demon
I can't fuck with the Wocky, I'm already leanin'
Bust down vs, shit get to blinging
Get cut down, chop at his neck got him singing
If I drop a price, niggas baking your pie
Walk around with the glizzy, I'm feeling like Shy
Niggas hate on me but I don't know why
I could fuck on your bitch and I don't gotta try
Drop a price on his head, man, it ain't no excuse
Tell my killer go get him, he got him, he ruthless
Twenty-two hit his lip, now, that nigga, he toothless
And my shit be organic, these niggas be boosting
Got the pounds of the pressure, that shit get to boofing
I don't want that lil' bitch if she bad but she stupid
I'ma stack up the cake, I ain't never gon' lose it
Moneymarr street smart, I could never be foolish

[Chorus: Moneymarr]
I'm high off these drugs, this shit got me thinkin', I can't think straight, uh
Moneymarr up now, bitch, fuck up next, nigga, I had to wait, uh
Used to trap on the block with the stick and the Glock, I was fresh out the gate, uh
And before all the fame bitches wasn't on dick, now they all in my face, uh
Bitch, I'm a block star, I'm pushing weight
I get the bags in, come from over the state
Walk down, I'm baking his cake
Try to whip out the stick but it's way too late
I'm smoking on Runtz, shit got me in space
That lil' bitch on my line, told her give me some space
And she bougie and bad, I can tell by her traits
I'ma ice out my neck and Versace my waist
×



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Songwriters: DAVID OLNEY
Fuck Up Next lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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