iPhone Freestyle

By Young Pappy

On 2 Cups: Part 3

Released on July 6, 2016

127K Views

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[Intro]

2 Cups, two blunts

The fuck is this? Shorty ass tweaking

Dopey-dopey-dope, wait hold on!


[Verse 1]

Who the fuck is this on my line this time?

Broke bitch, I ain’t got a dime this time

Talking ‘bout you pregnant, girl, you lying this time cause I know I strapped up

Boy, it’s real in the field, so you know I’m strapped up

It’s real, all the wrong niggas getting clapped up

Know it’s real when your own nigga get clapped up, and he die right next to you

Turn the savage up, do a drill when he next to you

Boy, that pole ain’t real, who you flexing to?

Girl, I just want some top, I ain’t sexting you

Say I pass on that, gas on deck

93 gas, I smash on that

Let 'em free Spazz and I’ll spaz on a track

I ain’t never been a hoe, I’ll blast on Pep, on Pooh Bear

Knock, knock on your door, like “Who there?”

Put the pole to his face, like “You there!”

Try to move out the way and take two there

Nigga, I’m too real

Nigga, it’s too real

Don’t wanna cross a nigga like me, hoe

Send shots, I ain’t talking 'bout free throw

Smoke Rock, I ain’t talking 'bout C-4

“You talking 'bout Keno?”

“I’m talking 'bout Rocket, man!”

Got me higher than a rocket, man

30 on me, I’ll pop it, man

PBG got plug, no socket, man

Ask Bang, niggas know how we rocking, man, I ain’t flodging

Got like 17 pair of True’s right now in my closet

Got Gucci, got Louie, got Robin’s

Two cups, two blunts, two mollies, I do drugs, shorty

So I don’t even remember last time I fucked, shorty

Talm 'bout you pregnant, you can get off my line

So you must be drunk, shorty


[Interlude]

I ain’t for none, shorty

On my life, shorty!

On my baby, though

Fuck is up with you?


[Verse 2]

Hold on

Wait, wait, wait, hold on

Who the fuck is this on my line this time?

Unknown number calling

Probably my P.O., so I ain’t gon' decline this time

“Hello?”

“Pap, you a bitch, when I catch you, I’m nailing you, that’s on my homie, nigga!”

“What? Boy, fuck your homie, nigga!

I’m in traffic right now with it on me, nigga, so come get up with me

Matter fact, where you at? I'ma get up with you

I don’t give a fuck who you with, they getting hit up with you

Ambulance pick you up, they getting picked up with you

Cause I ain’t missing not none of these

Nigga, you ain’t getting one, you getting some of these

Nigga, I do hits, that shit fun to me

Nigga can’t say shit ‘bout what he done to me

I got shot, my homie got changed right in front of me

Then Keno died, then Munchie died

A couple niggas got hit up, and they lucky that they ass still alive

So get off my phone!”

I don’t know what’s wrong, nigga talm 'bout he wanna do a song

I think he tryna set a nigga up, but you know I ain’t going

Tell him, “Fuck nigga, leave me alone!”

Wait, hold on!


[Interlude]

Man, what the fuck wrong with these niggas, man?

These niggas funny as hell, brody!

Go get you some fucking money, man

My shit clapping, on my baby, though

On my life!


[Verse 3]

Who the fuck is this on my line this time?

“What up, bro? They call me Mack

Man, I’m tryna get a feature”

“Well you know I’m finna tax

Nigga, how much you got?”

“I got 650,”

“Nigga, I need seven”

“Come on, bro, work with me!”

“Alright, send the Western Union, send the beat to the e-mail!

And send it to Yahoo, I don’t give out my Gmail!”

You don’t motherfucking know me, from the old me

I ain’t even saying it like I’m a O.G

Put in work by myself, nigga, fuck four deep

Do a drill, bandanna on, fuck low key

Nigga, we be so deep, on the block selling hard

Pop out 3 o'clock, all the way to graveyard

My brother told me, “Work hard, play hard!”

Got shells for these niggas that just wanna play hard

Hold on!