Up & Down lyrics

[Intro: Devon Hendryx]
Mmmm
Hahahaha…
sh*t nasty…
Ahh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
(Ahh!) Take 106, suck my di*k!
Uh, We gon' edit that out (Yeah)
Yeah, yeah-ahh, yea-ahh!

[Verse 1: Devon Hendryx]
I said, all my b*tches love me (Word?!)
So much they yellin', "f*ck me!" (Hah!)
Word to Cousin Skeeter, you ain't messin' with me
Dougie Unh (Yeah!)
Generation Y (Yeah-ahh!)
Earnin' my respect while I check 'em, I'm gettin' faded (What?)
Just waitin' on this f*ckin' codeine to get me swervin' (Yeah!)
I haven't been to the doctors' since Pamela was a virgin
But I always take my Zox! (Say what?)
Said, I always takе my Zox!
n*ggas steppin' on my toes, givin' me rеd socks
(But I f*ckIN' HATE THE RED SOOOX!!!)
Go, Yankees!
Master marketer, Bronx n*ggas should thank me
Suburbia should thank me, for not chuckin' this pinball bomb
Through your window, I'm thirty-four on Langstreet
Send me to yo' therapist, I'll show up lookin' p*ssed off (Yeah!)
Fiona Apple, boy, I'm finna cut my wrist off (Word? Unh! Unh!)
My baby never text me or mail me, so now I'm ticked off (Word?)
I hope she gets ahold of this, 'cause b*tch, I'm f*ckin' over it!
Gettin' sad when I see these n*ggas I'm older than (Why?)
Remind me of how I wasted my childhood (Word?)
My talentless teens, I'd give it all up in a second
Just to be reborn as one of Will Smith's children
Starin' at these suburbs from my run-down building
No tax refunds, watchin' these Doug reruns
I got dreams, when them dreams turn to gold? (Word!)
It's M-O-B-F-U-C-K, you as*h*les! (Yeah, yeah, yeah!)
[Chorus: Devon Hendryx, Enso Sinatra]
n*ggas be claimin' they kinfolk, don't know how
They lookin' up at my fame, but I don't look down
I'm chillin' with my n*gga Enso
Got yo' baby mama naked all up in my bed, goin' up and down
(Yeahhh!) You's a b*tch, you's a hoe, you that dude ain't countin' dough
(Yeahhh!) You ain't got no f*ckin' money to put on that f*ckin' flow (Okay!)
And we ain't got no room to ride (I got it!) So what's the biz?
(En! So! Hah!) So, Enso, tell 'em how it is, yeah

[Verse 2: Enso Sinatra]
You exuberate fame, I invite you step aside
It ain't enough room to fit you all in a ride, whuuut? (Okay!)
First-come, first-served basis
I got that plastic surgeon piece, I'm servin' faces, yeah
I'm wonderin', "How is it that I'm better?" (Yeah!)
I'm like Lysol, Pine-Sol, how could I get more fresher? (Fresher!)
Eatin' delicatessen, with a b*tch that's named Vanessa ('Nessa!)
Tryna make my pipe burst, curse down, apply pressure
Kansas City mister (Okay!) Kansas City mister (Okay!)
f*cked that n*gga daughter, almost wanted by Bautista
Now I gets attention from hoes that turn-turned they lip up
Now it's Amy Burr the way I make that buzzer flip up ([?])
Hennessy guzzler, E&J sipper
The way this kick is cuttin', you would swear I'm Jack the Ripper Whaat? You would swear I'm Jack the Ripper
Me, Devon from the same cloth, cut with different scissors
D-D-Damn, D-DJ, what you finna do with that?
Tell a band with a bump, my sh*t is poppin' in the 'raq (Go in!)
f*ck Arab Money (Go in!) Y'all can guess that's that I rack
Maybe that would go harder if I was really makin' that, still I go
[Chorus: Devon Hendryx & Enso Sinatra]
(Haaard!) n*ggas be claimin' they kinfolk, don't know how
They lookin' up at my fame, but I don't look down
I'm chillin' with my n*gga Enso
Got yo' baby mama naked all up in my crib, goin' up and down
You's a b*tch, you's a hoe, you that dude ain't countin' dough
You ain't got no f*ckin' money to put on that f*ckin' flow
And we ain't got no room to ride (b*tch n*gga!)
Said we ain't got no room to ride (n*gga, haah!)

[Outro: Devon Hendryx]
(Woo! Woo! Ow! Ow! Ow!)
(Ahh!) (Woo!)

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