Pull Up lyrics

[Chorus: Ken Carson]
We got sticks, pull up, b*tch
Ball like Knicks, pull up, b*tch
I got licks, pull up, b*tch
Let's do a mo'f*ckin' drill
It's a mill' in the house up the hill
Ain't nobody inside the crib
Who ready to ride for real?
Who ready to slide for real?
Get down or lay down
And it's LV all over my backpack, you know I don't rock no Sprayground
Pull up on your block, you hear, "Blatt, blatt", you know that my n*ggas don't play around
He was walking his kids to the bus stop, we left his body on the playground
I'ma let that sh*t hit with no silencer, I'ma let that boy know how the K sound

[Post-Chorus: Ken Carson]
You a b*tch, you a di*k rider, yeah, these n*ggas don't just be gay now
f*ck your b*tch, then I'm out of there, I'm back on the block sellin' big pounds
Keep the whole thing, I don't do no breakdowns
Don't do zips, boy, I don't do no shakedowns
I was ridin' 'round town with fifty pounds
This was your sh*t but, b*tch, this my city now
They was your b*tchеs, them be my b*tches now
Snatch your sh*t, givе me them
He was sellin', but he ain't get sh*t for them
Left your boy down there, yeah, you ain't shoot sh*t for him
I just rolled up my opp, yeah, I'm spliffin' him
I'm smokin' on whoever hate
I'm smokin' on whoever fake
I'm smokin', boy, I load up that K
[Verse 1: Ken Carson]
And I'll let that mo'f*cker spray, let that mo'f*cker hit, watch your body decay
That's what you get for bein' mad shady, that's what you get for throwin' shade
For a broke b*tch, I got cake
For a roach n*gga, I got Raid
Lil' shawty said she want lil' vamp, said she wanna f*ck, I took her backstage
Hell nah, I ain't wastin' no time, I blow out her spine, she invertebrate
Hell nah, I ain't wastin' no dime, hell yeah, this b*tch f*ck me, she ain't worth a thin'
No, I can't make the b*tch mine, know her IG, but don't know her first name
And I don't know her last either, I just know she a nat, eater
I'm rollin' off a flat, geeked up, this ain't fake, boy, you know my Percs real
You thought you addicted to the pills? You addicted to Fentanyl
We don't play 'bout that sh*t over here, I get high and I switch up my gear
Hell nah, I ain't talking 'bout clothes, I'm talkin' 'bout how I feel
These lame n*ggas talkin' 'bout hoes, I'm tryna talk up a mill'
I'm tryna talk up a bill', I wanna make the first trillion
Got a bad b*tch, she Sicilian, won't talk, she just love the feelings
She a star, yeah, she can touch the ceilin', model b*tch, yeah, I'm takin' her down
If you wasn't f*ckin' with me way back then, sh*t, you ain't gotta f*ck with me now
She ain't know I f*cked on her best friend, just like 2Pac, b*tch, I get around
It's Lil Vamp, b*tch, that's how I get down, f*ck your b*tch, move her outta your town
And you won't never see the b*tch again, you lookin' for her, but she with Ken
Me and your b*tch get lost
Now she f*ckin' with a boss
She talkin' 'bout her favorite designer brands, I told her to take that sh*t off
We in my loft, yeah, we on top of the land, we North, but that head goin' South
She goin' crazy, she suck my di*k with two hands, she won't stop and I'm pushin' her off
He talkin' crazy, but he won't pull up, b*tch
[Bridge: Ken Carson]
Pull up, b*tch
Pull up, b*tch
Pull up, b*tch
Pull up, b*tch
Pull up, b*tch
Pull up, b*tch
Pull up, b*tch

[Chorus: Ken Carson & Yeat]
We got sticks, pull up, b*tch
Ball like Knicks, pull up, b*tch
I got licks, pull up, b*tch
Let's do a mo'f*ckin' drill
It's a mill' in the house up the hill
Ain't nobody inside the crib
Who ready to ride for real?
Who ready to slide for real?
Get down or lay down
And it's LV all over my backpack, you know I don't rock no Sprayground
Pull up on your block, you hear, "Blatt, blatt", you know that my n*ggas don't play around
He was walking his kids to the bus stop, we left his body on the playground
I'ma let that sh*t hit with no silencer, I'ma let that boy know how the K sound (Whew)

[Verse 2: Yeat]
Bang (Bang), bang (Bang, bang)
We got Glocks, pull up, b*tch
We got sticks, pull up, b*tch (Pull up)
I'm in the GLE, pull up, b*tch
I'm in the Tonka, huh, b*tch
I'm in the Lamb'
I got my bro out the jam
I am rocking Margiela, Margiela monk (Margiela monk)
I put diamonds on my hand
She got diamonds on her toes (Let's go)
I might take off on a sled, yeah
All my diamonds on a boat, yeah (Ooh, ooh)
We just pull up, let it go (Buh)
b*tch, we richer than the world (Ooh, ooh)
We got what? Yeah
We got Glocks, pull up, b*tch
We got sticks, pull up, b*tch
Don't say sh*t, lil' b*tch, I'm rich
Where I'ma chill at? b*tch, at the Ritz (I'm up)
I'm in the Tonka, sh*t don't make no sense
I'm in a foreign, sh*t gon' bust your hip
Got a lil' foreign b*tch who give me sex
I went and doubled up and touched an M (Luh mill')
All I like money, b*tch, I ain't got no friends (Uh-huh)
I call the devil up, 'cause that's my twin (Huh)
I seen them switch up, they don't want you winnin' (Huh)
We rich as a b*tch and I'm chillin' with Ken
[Chorus: Ken Carson]
We got sticks, pull up, b*tch
Ball like Knicks, pull up, b*tch
I got licks, pull up, b*tch
Let's do a mo'f*ckin' drill
It's a mill' in the house up the hill
Ain't nobody inside the crib
Who ready to ride for real?
Who ready to slide for real?
Get down or lay down
And it's LV all over my backpack, you know I don't rock no Sprayground
Pull up on your block, you hear, "Blatt, blatt", you know that my n*ggas don't play around
He was walking his kids to the bus stop, we left his body on the playground
I'ma let that sh*t hit with no silencer, I'ma let that boy know how the K sound

[Post-Chorus: Ken Carson]
You a b*tch, you a di*k rider, yeah, these n*ggas don't just be gay now
f*ck your b*tch, then I'm out of there, I'm back on the block sellin' big pounds
Keep the whole thing, I don't do no breakdowns
Don't do zips, boy, I don't do no shakedowns
I was ridin' 'round town with fifty pounds
This was your sh*t but, b*tch, this my city now
They was your b*tches, them be my b*tches now
Snatch your sh*t, give me them
He was sellin', but he ain't get sh*t for them
Left your boy down there, yeah, you ain't shoot sh*t for him
I just rolled up my opp, yeah, I'm spliffin' him
I'm smokin' on whoever hate
I'm smokin' on whoever fake
I'm smokin', boy, I load up that K