Poured Up Freestyle ft. Ca$tro Lyrics

Poured up in the stu, yeah we whippin' up

On my last, but there ain't no way I'm givin up

Ran up with that Draco, made him give it up

From the bottom and you know we tryna reach the top

Damn, yo bitch, she a thot, tryna give me top

Twin glocks with the sticks, I ain't bring the stock

I ain't lackin boy, I keep like 60 sum shots

All blue hunnids, what you seein' dis knot

Last six years, I was servin' all the knocks

Sixty death darts, what I'm holdin' in this box

And I'ma pull up, let them all off on your block

Man, I really need a perk right now

Feelin' like I should slide right now

But you know we ain't bringin' no snitches

Make sure you ain't leavin' no witness

If I don't sip, then I start feelin' sickness

Some advice, keep them hoes out your business

He ran up, so I dropped him with quickness

Sheeesh

Local 2 Global, we gettin' money, What the fuck is you doin'

Everybody talkin' shit, love is what I'm pursuin'

I be gettin' hard, thinkin' bout them dollar bills

And everywhere I go, I keep a prayer and a steel

Little baby, what's the deal? If you hit my line, already know the deal

Shit, then I probably pop a pill Watch me do my dance, watch me get it in for real

Mastering your craft, it's the real mission

If I'm sellin' dope, cuttin' hair, cookin' in the kitchen

You ain't built for this life, you ain't built for this game

Rowboat through life with the tears that it made

Not lookin' back in this life, not ashamed

Gotta get it in, gotta get it anyway

Gotta be cool, gotta watch what you say

Pull up, jump shot, hit him with the fade away

Thirty-three rounds hangin' out that glizzy

Remember when I hit that line, they was busy

With my Norte & we smokin' on a Stizzy

But it's Local Gang bangin' on my hoodie

I really don't care if you don't feel me

Cause any issues, then I'm lettin' off the 50

Mixed bitch, I lick lean off her titty

Pop a perk, then I stab her in the kitty

All this lean probably fuckin' up my kidneys

In the trap, servin' Bobby and Whitney

Seven bands, what I got up in my pocket?

And the other keep that baby pocket rocket

Stop talkin', bitch, put a sock in it

Run it up, try and see a thousand blue sheets

Drive by, yeah, we did it in a two-seat

Poured up, now we sippin' out the 2-Litter