Yung Mal – Goin Up lyrics

[Yung Mal] Gudda Tay on every beat, nigga I done finally got my weight up, weight up I done finally got my weight up I done finally got my cake up, cake up I done finally got my cake up Blow so much cash, they gotta rake up My diamonds shine, laser I'm ballin' on 'em like I'm with the Lakers Brand new foreign with the papers Gotta keep that Glock, make me feel safer They sent some shots but they didn't take us All these chains blingin', whole team eatin' I ain't tryna kick it, you ain't gettin' no fettuccini Got the streets hot, gasoline If I ever flop, then it's back to sellin' fuckin' weed I'm talkin' Master P's Trappin' 'til it's all gone I been goin' hard, put my dawgs on If you ain't gettin' paid, you doin' it all wrong And you know I'm stuck with my niggas, they my motherfuckin' backbone I can barely walk 'cause I got all these fuckin' racks on me Niggas wanna hate, can't go nowhere without the strap on me Do a show 'cross the state, get the backend on me Beat her back, beat her face, I'll be gone in the morning I done finally got my weight up, weight up I done finally got my weight up I done finally got my cake up, cake up I done finally got my cake up Blow so much cash, they gotta rake up My diamonds shine, laser I'm ballin' on 'em like I'm with the Lakers Brand new foreign with the papers Gotta keep that Glock, make me feel safer They sent some shots but they didn't take us All these chains blingin', whole team eatin' I ain't tryna kick it, you ain't gettin' no fettuccini Got the streets hot, gasoline If I ever flop, then it's back to sellin' fuckin' weed I'm talkin' Master P's [Lil Quill] If I ever flop I'm on the block, seventeen inside my Glock On the rock seven days a week, no I won't stop until I hit the top I got lean in my soda pop (Pop), watch his body drop Got things in the trap, know folks tryna stop me, I'ma detox I done finally got my weight up, cake up If you ain't tryna book it, need to pay us, great up Got a couple shooters, they do not play for no Lakers Now we gettin' cash, all these niggas wanna hate us Bitches tryna date us (On God) [Yung Mal] I done finally got my weight up, weight up I done finally got my weight up I done finally got my cake up, cake up I done finally got my cake up Blow so much cash, they gotta rake up My diamonds shine, laser I'm ballin' on 'em like I'm with the Lakers Brand new foreign with the papers Gotta keep that Glock, make me feel safer They sent some shots but they didn't take us All these chains blingin', whole team eatin' I ain't tryna kick it, you ain't gettin' no fettuccini Got the streets hot, gasoline If I ever flop, then it's back to sellin' fuckin' weed I'm talkin' Master P's [Outro] This dope came straight off the boat Explain Request ×

Lyrics taken from /yung_mal-goin_up-1760699.html