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Artist: 50 Cent f/ Kendrick Lamar
Album:  Street King Immortal
Song:   We Up
Typed by: 

[Intro: 50 Cent]
Yeah, uh-huh
They don't do it how we do (do)
Niggaz ain't on the shit we on (we on, we on)
Everything new (new)
Spikes on the Louboutins ('boutins, 'boutins)

[50 Cent]
I'm 'round the bullshit like a matador
I'm used to the bullshit, it don't matter boy
Corporate acquisitions, accumulations of wealth
Build with the gods and double knowledge of self
Entrepreneur visions, Moulin Rouge religion
That pussy make a weak nigga break down
So what you want, the cheese or the cheeks?
You want the cheeks, she want the cheese, bitch gotta eat
I'm havin the epiphany you niggaz ain't shit to me
Worse than the scum in the slum I'm from
I'm a Southside nigga, yeah I'm 'bout mine
You'll be that next nigga coroners come outline
You ain't made of what I'm made of
You a bum nigga with a bum bitch, your shoes come from Bakers
You counterfeit fraudulent fakers
What kind of rich nigga bitch look like that?

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
You all know when we pullin off the lot
Brake, hit the button then we pullin down the top
Shine's on stuntin and I'm pullin out a knot
Strapped with the Glock, won't pull it out a lot
But front, I'll make it pop
They don't do it how we do (do)
Niggaz ain't on the shit we on (we on, we on)
Everything new (new)
Spikes on the Louboutins ('boutins, 'boutins)
We up nigga~!

[Kendrick Lamar]
Visualize everything I needed and dream (uh-huh)
Penalized every hoe nigga that have a scheme (what else?)
Guns in your video gets you locked in the beam
Yeah I'll kill a nigga quick, no worries, my record clean
Murder one become manslaughter soon as they brought up
Charity work, parkin tickets and no charges
Fuck nigga, you fucked over your father
when he gave you a dick, should've been a bitch in pajamas
I made my first million fuckin dollars
Bought a Bible, aw yeah, God got me
Made my second million dollars, bought a chopper and binoculars
I'm scared, this shit don't happen to everybody
I'm on Instagram lookin at your favorite singer
Debatin on should I fuck or jump on her single
20 thou' she got a hell of a ad-lib
I'm in her mouth like I knew I can have kids


[50 Cent]
Good pussy for dinner, b-bomb kush for breakfast...
D-d-deep-colored VS stones around my neck bitch...
It feels like a nigga dreamin
Seat back, music bumpin, niggaz leanin
Bull's-eye, that's what we came for
The bread, now a nigga run the game boy
I should've sent the broad to report what's in the yard
Aloof livin, I came up so hard
No pain, no gain, it's embedded in the brain
I'm in it for the grip, motherfuck the fame