The Brazy Bunch, A-Wax & King Iso - F It Up lyrics

[Intro: A-Wax] Yeah, yeah, Wax [Chorus: A-Wax] I just talked her into trusting me again, fu*k it up Let a 'op go with his b*tch riding in that Benz, fu*k it up fu*k this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fu*k it up Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up [Verse 1: A-Wax] People used to say that rap sh*t ain't gon' get you far I'ma keep the killers fed, that funky b*tch can starve Empty shells and backwood roaches, them's my business cards Took a gulp on accident, woah, that sh*t hit me hard fu*k a room, come top me off in this [?] booth She said she wanna be my b*tch, I said of course you do Had a shoot out in the B and had to torch it new [?] I ain't get to count the foreign, boom Trapping, drop a hundred rounds off in their cul-de-sac Your b*tch wrote me in the pin, I never wrote her back This sh*t ain't no mid pack, we smoking golden grahams Had a op b*tch bust it open on my only fans [Chorus: A-Wax] I just talked her into trusting me again, fu*k it up Let a 'op go with his b*tch riding in that Benz, fu*k it up fu*k this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fu*k it up Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up [Verse 2: King Iso] Yeah, that b*tch try'na be my Future, think she Sylvia Brown ni**as once were at the table with us, on the menu now Turn that whole table red, Big Willie style When I up that chopper, fu*k it up, get it, I kill the clown Take that hoe and flip the b*tch like whipping when you spin it 'round They knocked off your partner like an ammo lick, they still around? The irony of all these gyms on me when I'm lifting pounds Forest chicken, counting every hen I see like liquor rounds Yeah, they saying it's up 'til we sit 'em down Chop, leave 'em screwed, call the swisher house You broke, need a favor to figure out? I ain't got it, but just ran up fifty-thou' Since a young buck, only bank's I had was a shoe-box, better rent a couch b*tch said she don't trust me, next week I'm in her house, and ni**a wow [Chorus: A-Wax] I just talked her into trusting me again, fu*k it up Let a 'op go with his b*tch riding in that Benz, fu*k it up fu*k this taste, I'd like to pull out twenty bands, fu*k it up Drop it low, now shake it standing on your hands, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it, fu*k it up