M.o.p. - Pounds Up (Red # 40) (feat. M.O.P.) Lyrics
Ooh.. yeah..Come on! Ooh..Yeah.. yeah..Yeah..[ Lil' Fame ]Why y'all niggas is sis' to ***** with Lil' FameI analyze the streets, spit real gameI'll blast on you as you pass on throughCatch you right where you stand put your ass on youI remind niggas with that blue steel that you ripAnd the rush that you felt from the nigga that you hit, nowHow many niggas wanna ride with me, collide with meBe accesoires to homicide with me [ First Family! ]Who I hang with, bang with, spit flames withThe hand full of niggas that I came withI ain't tripping, I know you got a hell of a planFor the man if you ever caught me slippingYou will stop me, won't you, pop me, won't youBut you know I'll whoop ya mother*****ing ass *****, don't youMy family strong, your mams don't need so stop breathing'before you cats and you ass get deleted[ Chorus ] [ 2x ]Look, ain't nobody stoppin' this hereYou'll see it, it's on and poppin' this yearMound up (Mound up!) Pounds up! (Pounds up!)We build this foundation, from the ground up nigga[ Billy Danze ]Stand up faggot, I'll let you have it where you post at(William Berckowicz!) Back with my golden fiend and Womack(BLAOW!) Nigga hold that, Juliani can't control that(We buss outta clutches on Magnum triggers) He know thatWith the same cats that blaze DAT's on the boulevardWe remain strapped, then came back, doin' it hardSo send your soldiers cobra and I will send everyone of 'em backwith holes under they' hat, falls of through they' backDamn with it mother*****er (BK!) All day real with it mother*****erI'm not your average, I'm from a block where they trap copsAnd made 'em holler ten-thirteenIt's the commander, Danze, hands, downYou need to know who you *****ing with nowNow kill-a-kill again, with an unusual will to winAn unusual will to sin, stop *****ing with me[ Chorus ] [ 2x ][ Lil' Fame ]It's an every day thing in a every day gameMore day every day, mother*****er bang (BANG!)It's the streets in me, and me, I'm staying tuned to this shitIt's music to my ears, I'm immune to this shitI'm suffering, from a disease called 'Leave me the ***** alone'In this full blown (blown), *****,M.O.P., prepare for the ruckusand we murder-murder-ma-murder-murder you mother*****ers[ Billy Danze ]Allow me the way out, down out, pull my gun out,Run out in the middle of a street light (Bum, bum bum)Ah, there you go, bastard, murder international, custom main casketsNow could any of you *****suckers turn to meThe way this streetgame is going is concerning meWhatever happened to the old dayswe all blaze, we all study criminal ways[ Chorus ] [ 2x ]Nigga!...Nigga!
