Up To Something

Metro Boomin、Travis Scott、Young Thug - Up To Something
Written by：Travis Scott、Allen Ritter、Southside、Metro Boomin、Young Thug
Ayy
Drank takin' a sip of that Act
Blow it
Flood all my b**ches in that
That way
I'm in the projects without Pat
Ayy
My jewelry leave 'em blind like bats
Bling
Diamonds for her in the back
Blaow
Hit that lil' b**ch from the back
She stacked
Ask me like how I do that
What
Pop a lil' xan and relax
Yeah
About my racks you get whacked
Pew pew pew pew
If he got racks he get taxed
Five four three two one attack
Dead tell all my whoadies hit that
P**sy n**ga they some rats
What
He swung on my pockets they fat no catch
But all my b**ches they brats
Pop a lil' perky relax
Turn up turn up
These n**gas up to somethin'
Hmm ayy
She need to suck or somethin'
I'ma wake up for somethin'
I fell in love with nothin'
Yeah
B**ches they do it for me
Stuck on me gluin' somethin'
Yeah
Patrick Swazey Swazey Swazey save me
All my b**ches get it never lazy
All my pockets full like they pregnant
Y'all n**gas still hatin'
Dice in the middle
I'ma shoot it with precise in the building
F**k that b**ch because she likin' my riddles
Ayy
White on her head I got lice and I'm buildin'
Ayy
Lil' mama ready she Tyson go get her
Whoa
I can't complain I got ice in my bezel
Ayy
I'm not racist I got white in my Bentley
Hey
Caught a rabbit it was ice all up in it
Ayy
Hell yeah
Yeah yeah
Call me mister mister Porsche
Yeah
Pockets swole with no abortion
Yeah
I sleep soft I'm never snorin'
Yeah
Talk to b**ches when I'm borin'
Yeah
Your money little like a Yorkie
I open your head up with a forty
Bap
I think I'm gettin' back to the old me
Yeah I'm gettin' back to the old me
These n**gas up to somethin'
Hmm ayy
These n**gas f**ked it up shh
Ayy
Drank takin' a sip of that Act
Blow it
Flood all my b**ches in that
That way
I'm in the projects without Pat
Ayy
My jewelry leave 'em blind like bats
Bling
Diamonds for her in the back
Blaow
Hit that lil' b**ch from the back
She stacked
Ask me like how I do that
What
Pop a lil' xan and relax
Yeah
About my racks you get whacked
Pew pew pew pew
If he got racks he get taxed
Five four three two one attack
Dead tell all my whoadies hit that
P**sy n**ga they some rats
What
He swung on my pockets they fat no catch
But all my b**ches they brats
Pop a lil' perky relax
Turn up turn up
These n**gas up to somethin'
Hmm Hell yeah ayy
She need to suck or somethin'