UP SCO Lyrics

Whew, Wheww, you feel me

I'm finna go crazy on this motherfucka, you feel me

Strength, when we stand on business and we finish

He turn to a ghost, niggas really bitches, they ain't with it

We uppin' the score, we pop out, hit his fitted

Chops and Glizzies, yeah, it's Fuck lil , bro

My cougar, she be with me, she like 40 and she clear the smoke

Unc he get it in from out of town and me, I get it gone

We be serving all this shit, bitch, we got different loads

You can get it for the high, you could get it low

I be posted with my bro, we got different poles

We can turn you to a casper because we want the smoke Huh

We be matching hella guys, but I can't speak on those

See, I'ma get it out the mud and I'm gon' get it on

Free Mooda G, can't wait to shorty on the way home

Yeah, we pop his top and get him going and then we going ghost

Yeah, we COS, can't speak on missions, that's against the code

Bitch, I'm never snitching, man, I'm solid, I won't bend or fold

Bitch, I'm in the trenches with that gat, you know I'm letting it go

When we handle business, do it swift, cause we don't leave a trace

Out all day and night, he got his Glock and I'm gon' bring the K

Come out in white mask and white clothes like we the KKK

Pop out on him, scare his ass like I got the Jason face

This bitch I got, she blow and burn, you would think this lil' bitch mace

Finger fuck my cougar and she fuck the opposition face

Slide up on they block, we got three chops and they take different cases

Every day a PayDay cause lil' PJ, he a paper chaser

3-0, not three, fuckin' four

M-C-E and B-R-A, we pulled up on they fuckin' block

Lil' buddy, ass ain't getaway

Yeah, I hop out, get the bussin', slide on beef, yeah, no discussion

Hit his top, bitch, no concussion, hawked him down, he started runnin

Catchin shit like Terrell Owens Smooshin' shit like they some Muffins

Poppin' shit like I'm a junkie, I always got time for huntin

She like, why you leaving? I said, bitch, I gotta get this paper

Hey yo, my mama, I be always huntin

Pop out, put him in a box, yeah, you know these niggas coughin

If you want that smoke with us, nigga, we go drop him off

Hit him in his fuckin' top, lil' buddy, ass ass ain't walkin

I said, lil' buddy, ass ain't even walkin

We be on they block, for real, the 3-0, not three, fuckin' four

On my mama, they get dropped, for real, we spillin' blood

If you want that smoke, just put it up, for real

We be on three, four, all day and all night, I got this steel

Pop out, put him in a box, we don't play no games

Hit him in his fuckin' top, we just send him flames