Kris the $pirit - HANDS UP

Man tell em to get they hands up, yuh
I really came from the damn slums
That's forty acres that's all forsaken
Fuck Ronald Reagan we all were slanging
Man tell em to get they hands up
I'm balling on em that's And 1
I'll snatch ya chain and like and what
Got mental problems the ghetto swallowed my mans up

Off white hoodie your confrontation is welcomed
It's on sight
Niggas they know me I came from Heltah Skeltah
Yo man my duo sick but I'm selfish
Need a hundred bitches and marble tables for shellfish
Broad day
Slanging out rocks, the cards I was dealt with
Kanye shoes on my feet, heat on my pelvis
Sade music is bumping, soothing my senses
Cruising round with your exes, crucifix on my necklace bless
I'm feeling myself bro
Look at my set bro
I grew up on minimal funds
I need me that check bro
Niggas been playing me, wasting my time
I'm speeding that Tec bro
I'm at ya neck, just like Gillettem spilling that blood flow yeah
This is that cut throat shit they'd hope would fold up
I'm at ya front door hoe niggas I showed up
They hated on me
Two faces on em I showed love
Tell em to kill they-selves that's a Lamborghini with the doors up yup

Man tell em to get they hands up, yuh
I really came from the damn slums
That's forty acres that's all forsaken
Fuck Ronald Reagan we all were slanging
Man tell em to get they hands up
I'm balling on em that's And 1
I'll snatch ya chain and like and what
Got mental problems the ghetto swallowed my mans up

Killing this bitch like OJ Simpson, the glove is fittin him snug
The flow is tighter then sliding inside ya mistress fire
That's three emojis, I need the trophies, the accolades
the Cadillac with the candy paint
The trillest been sippin syrup
I'm channeling Michael Watts
Put my life in these verses the fuck is a writer's block
Chop up and screw the beat, I'mma show you my darkest thoughts
Pimpin this system like tinted whips pullin up in that parking lot whoa
yeah dip when the cops come
Fuck ya costumes
I know who they aiming for uh
Soon as there glocks drawn
They never put faith in me
Nah nah they wanted me locked up
They wanted me broke
They wanted me washed up
My adversaries are cowards come get devoured
Just show your true colours, you pushing up flowers
I'm tryna do numbers, move up on that ladder uh yuh
I'm tryna do something, pull up in that phantoms skrt

Man tell em to get they hands up, yuh
I really came from the damn slums
That's forty acres that's all forsaken
Fuck Ronald Reagan we all were slanging
Man tell em to get they hands up
I'm balling on em that's And 1
I'll snatch ya chain and like and what
Got mental problems the ghetto swallowed my mans up

Written by:
CHRISTY CAMPBELL, REANNO DEVON GORDON, STANISKI, ERIC J CAMPBELL

Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

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