"Fuck Up The Fun" Lyrics

Tell him to keep that
Yeah just play the track stop cuttin it off
And lemme-lemme pop my shit
It is what it is hehe
Fuck is ya'll niggas doing?
You ready bitch?
What up what up whatup?
Yo Yo Yo Yo!

Who want it? Who-who want it?
Which nigga little goon is gettin' stewed with a onion?
Niggas all cute til the roogs in abundance
And ya dude get to running with the womb in his stomach
Bitch nigga, bitch get ya nigga
All these niggas just raw food for the dinner
And these niggas better tuck in their little jewels when I enter
Cause your bitch hot nigga finna fuck up the fun
Don't fuck with your bitch when the rum in her punch
I might dance on these niggas, but the gun in the butt
The gold Jimmy's little mirror little stun in the clutch
And don't slip up little nigga, 'fore the stun in your nuts
Yo' dude bout to fuck up your trust
He gonna run when I hit ya, put you under the pump
You gonna run with your nigga, now you close enough
To shoot once in the throat leave ya both in a slump (huh)
Go 'head, go 'head, nigga, pop off
You can get your fam and your man's and them shot off
I'mma get the AMS for ya and blow your top off
Shit funny til the gun in your face
You better run with your nigga, better open the safe
You better come up with the money better show up the weight
I'm gonna come with gorillas cause I run with the apes
And put shots in your butt like you wanted the cake

Word
Most of ya'll niggas is fucking pussy out here
Like I'll smack all y'all niggas in the face
All in the mouth and all in the shit
Like where ya'll nigga's come from?
Y'all niggas is not from New York
Y'all niggas is not dirty
(Laughing) Where y'all niggas come from?

Ok Ok Ok Ok
Bitches better quit that chat
These bitches better hold up with the yizzap-yap
I grips the 5th then click-clizzack clack
I hate to have to blow your little wig all back
I mean I hate to have to see you with your wig off, bitch
I see you tryna come and get on, bitch
You gonna trip, slip, fall, land and lick on dick
It be the same nigga bout to come and lick on this, hold up
Scram, hit the breeze
You a fan, bitch, please
Don't slip up in the presence of ya lil bambin
Don't get it at ya residence and get it so clean
Yeah I'm sick up with the evidence and bitches won't speak
And we can freak with your man this week
Bad bitches, you a nickel and your pussy game weak
I'm fickle and my pussy named peach
I can disappear and let the pussy game speak
Let the pussy game speak
Nigga's know the center of the pussy stay pink
These bitches better keep it, keep it going like thiefs
'fore I reach and that thing go BRRRRRRRRRAAAAAHHHHH!

Keep it, keep it goin'
Who want it? Who-who want it?
Which nigga little goon, which nigga little goon goon
Who want it? Who-who want it?
Which nigga little goon, which nigga little goon goon