Check Up Lyrics

Check Up - Young Buck

...

Turn it up

yeah.... it's Buck!

Lego

Racked up I got Bands on me

B- Bands on me

Racked up I got Bands on me

I got Bands on me

Ice all on my neck, I got zeroes over my check

I got bottles all in my section

This cashville and we flexin’, ball!

I’m still touching that white girl

All of my hoes just like girls

Walking through the club like I'm Mike Earl

Miley Cyrus this is my world

15 hundreds for this Robbin jeans

45 hundreds for this pound of green

2chainz gave me this pint of lean (pour up)

Versace shades, you know what I see

I got a gold rollie, I ain’t even wore yet

A corvette ain't even drove yet

Louie’s ain't even in the store yet

I bet you broke niggas didn't you know that

Hook:

I read up, I ain’t never runnin’ out

I’m racked up, I ain’t never serving y’all

Get money, I ain’t never gone without, what?

So tell me why I don’t deserve to ball?

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m just runnin’ that check up

Coming through the Bands like this

Coming through the Bands ike this

Coming through the Bands like this

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m still keepin’ that 40 on me

F*ck the feds ’cause I know they want me

36 O’s I hold it on me

We think we the shit, I know that don’t we

Gucci bag hangin’ on my bitch arm

Your bitch shit finna get pumped

My bitch rich and her whip foreign

Look at my wrist I got a brick on

I got Tom Fords ain’t even wore yet

A condo I ain’t even go yet

And mansion I ain’t even show yet

In case you wanna know where your hoe at

My niggas got rich while I was locked up (true)

came back home and we gwopped up, gwopped up

All of the soft got wacked up

Put bands on my hand when I popped up

Hook:

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m just runnin’ that check up

Coming through the bands like this

Coming through the bands like this

Coming through the bands like this

I’m just runnin’ that check up

Got YSL on my belt buckle

Spend ’bout twelve ’bout my left knuckle

'F' on my rim and it mean F*CK you.. f*ck em

Beat it out, whatever left of you

Got white reminix in the ? bottle

College bitch, she the next of model

Ball all night I’ma wrist the model

Your baby mama, she the next to swallow

couple keys on me know that

a pound of kush and I ain’t blow yet

some Xanax bars I ain’t sold yet

Tryin to find a house, where I can grow at

’this ace of spade no more of that

’bout the fire this bitch where the door at

Hey picture me ballin’ it’s a kodak

Tryin to find a strip club to throw at

Hook:

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m just runnin’ that check up

I’m just runnin’ that check up

Coming through the Bands like this

Coming through the bands like this