Drink to my drinkin’
Yeea, uh
[Verse 1]
See I have a theory
I can get around the world
With my social skills
I never sleep outside an honour flow for real
Even the haters know the deal
I don’t need a pocket full of bills
To eat the dopest meals
In every hood that I decide to show was ‘What up’
Hold up, what up, got blunt? Yo shown up
What up? Yo shut up!
Yeah he right, I keep it humble so
I’m a keep it cool, even when I got the bungalow
What up homie? Keep bangin’ those switches
What up shorty? I don’t play with these bitches
My cup slowly turns into empty
I sippin’ on Alize, Bombay & Henny
I smokin’ on blunts with some hash mixed up in ‘em
These hoes lookin’ fine so I’m tryin’a get in ‘em
The Kush got me spinnin’
Codeine got me tippin’
The waitress I’m still [? ?]
Yo homie, what up
I feel I had a good year
People recognize me in they neighbourhood’s here
I’m trying to tour, I hear a bunch of people shout my name
Tryin’ make a little money not a household name
It’s like, I’m just trying walk about my house
And hear ‘em saying ‘what up’
Homie light the blunt up
Kno-wha’ I’m sayin’?
I’m a, get my hustle on
Maybe spit a rhyme
I’m from Canada
We drinking 40’s in the wintertime
It’s like
[Chorus:]
All I ever hear is people saying ‘what up’
(What up) ‘what up’ (what up)
And I just like to hit the studio and have em saying ‘what up’
(What up) ‘what up’ (what up)
Walk up to a fine ass bitch and hear me saying ‘what up’
(What up) ‘what up’ (what up)
And I just wanna get real high nigga, saying ‘what up’
(What up) ‘I’m real high’ (I’m real high)
[Verse 2:]
*Wazzzzaaapppp*
Oh, we’re not doin’ that?
My bad, lets go back
To that LOD-LMNOP
With some energy
Down a red bull
Smoke a Pom
Make a melody
Ya me, I put my rap hat on
Orange and silver
Get high, fat and drunk
On Kush, borrowed your Pilsner
And you, you’ll remember me
When the song is over
Be like “Who the fuck snuck the verse in the recorder?”
Ain’t nothin’ better than recognition
Of your hustlin’ business
What up to all my people going hard every minute
Wether in the office, music studio, I’m digging ditches
We makin’ a living, Maestro Fresh — stick to your vision
I feel on a mission to banging the car subs
Knew I made it when I mentioned [? ? ?] with bone thugs
And in the club, drinks blow up
Waitress bringing like, ten to me
The blunts get it rolled
While we screaming free Marc Emery
What up? What’s good? I’m so misunderstood
I drink ’til I walk like I’m missing a foot
But fuck it, I love it, I do what they doesn’t
I chug ‘til I’m buzzing, my money stay Dublin
And I’m smokin’ on blunts but I ain’t put bud in
I’m fuckin’ this Diva but I ain’t her husband
More than murder, these stages we step on
Aim straight for the top and ain’t changing direction
What up