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Back Up Video (MV)






clipping - Back Up Lyrics





Ate breakfast with my ex, dead bitch
Now she text me in the afterlife
While I take a shit
Brush my teeth with a brick
Shower in a bunker afterparty at the crib
We only huffing duster
Yelling in a telephone under the covers
Slipped in the shower now
The light'll take me under
Dapped in the head, shirt turns red
In the garden with the snakes now
I'm living and dead in a world with no Ant
Who the f*ck needs friends?
I got a million brain problems
And my bitch is probably all of them
Tryna be down, well he probably could
But that bitch just a little too Hollywood
Took about a pound of the
Charlie 'fore the party good
He ain't never seen a brick they
Shot him where he stood (Step off)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Step)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Shh)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up

Drugs! (Drugs) Drugs! (Drugs) Drugs! (Drugs) Drugs! (Drugs)
She take another shot
And then she give another hug
She feelin' really snug like a
Rug who under a bug
Or maybe she meant the opposite
Molly did and she coppin' it
Selfie photo, she croppin' it
Since they askin', she poppin' it
Self-control, yeah, she lockin' it
All away thong, she rockin' it
Showin' she lonely only to end
Up alone and clockin' it
(Party, party, party, party
Party) And she ain't stoppin' it
Next morning, time for work, she still asleep
'Bout to lose her job
And it's the third time this week
She tryna make that paper on the web
Showin' her feet to them creeps
Ain't she sweet, now he askin' her to meet
At a club, 42nd and Whitelock
Now he got her cornered
Tryna show her white cock (Come here, baby)
She wear a smile
And then she touch it for a while
While he pullin' out that pipe and he
Fillin' it with that white rock
He tryin' to fill her ass while
He feelin' it all cracked out
Stab, she pulls a katana
That's Dolce Gabbana
And blood's everywhere, nigga, back up, ah
Tryna be down, well he probably could
But that bitch just a little too Hollywood
Took about a pound of the
Charlie 'fore the party good
He ain't never seen a brick they
Shot him where he stood (Step off)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Step)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Shh)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up

Fake red shit on them hot cheese sticks
From the corner store
Pocket full of loosies and a Cherry Coke
Red nose like a pit, wipes that on the sleeve
Back to the counter, pop
Clip, empty the drawer, leave
House packed from the front door
To the back door, can't breathe
Loud pack lit out back in the backyard
That weed
Smellin' the clothes under the skin
F*ck up the flow, bitch goin' in
She twerkin' alone
You don't wanna touch her
She probably could bite your face
Off in a minute
She hittin' them bath salts
Like it was exfoliating
It's no more glasses cause
The shit's keep breaking
Get your rake up, step up, pour up, burn up
Hold up, shit, you already know
Turn up, turn up, turn up
So when the eyes look marble
That's the code
And the rain is comin' down again
Under the porchlight it glows
It burns when it hit's the skin
Cleans the soul they say
But why would you listen to them?
Just get a new one, like a white tee
At the corner store
They got 'em two for ten
Tryna be down, well he probably could
But that bitch just a little too Hollywood
Took about a pound of the
Charlie 'fore the party good
He ain't never seen a brick they
Shot him where he stood (Step off)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Step)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Shh)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up

Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Ate breakfast with my ex, dead bitch
Now she text me in the afterlife
While I take a shit
Brush my teeth with a brick
Shower in a bunker afterparty at the crib
We only huffing duster
Yelling in a telephone under the covers
Slipped in the shower now
The light'll take me under
Dapped in the head, shirt turns red
In the garden with the snakes now
I'm living and dead in a world with no Ant
Who the f*ck needs friends?
I got a million brain problems
And my bitch is probably all of them
Tryna be down, well he probably could
But that bitch just a little too Hollywood
Took about a pound of the
Charlie 'fore the party good
He ain't never seen a brick they
Shot him where he stood (Step off)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Step)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Shh)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up

Drugs! (Drugs) Drugs! (Drugs) Drugs! (Drugs) Drugs! (Drugs)
She take another shot
And then she give another hug
She feelin' really snug like a
Rug who under a bug
Or maybe she meant the opposite
Molly did and she coppin' it
Selfie photo, she croppin' it
Since they askin', she poppin' it
Self-control, yeah, she lockin' it
All away thong, she rockin' it
Showin' she lonely only to end
Up alone and clockin' it
(Party, party, party, party
Party) And she ain't stoppin' it
Next morning, time for work, she still asleep
'Bout to lose her job
And it's the third time this week
She tryna make that paper on the web
Showin' her feet to them creeps
Ain't she sweet, now he askin' her to meet
At a club, 42nd and Whitelock
Now he got her cornered
Tryna show her white cock (Come here, baby)
She wear a smile
And then she touch it for a while
While he pullin' out that pipe and he
Fillin' it with that white rock
He tryin' to fill her ass while
He feelin' it all cracked out
Stab, she pulls a katana
That's Dolce Gabbana
And blood's everywhere, nigga, back up, ah
Tryna be down, well he probably could
But that bitch just a little too Hollywood
Took about a pound of the
Charlie 'fore the party good
He ain't never seen a brick they
Shot him where he stood (Step off)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Step)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Shh)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up

Fake red shit on them hot cheese sticks
From the corner store
Pocket full of loosies and a Cherry Coke
Red nose like a pit, wipes that on the sleeve
Back to the counter, pop
Clip, empty the drawer, leave
House packed from the front door
To the back door, can't breathe
Loud pack lit out back in the backyard
That weed
Smellin' the clothes under the skin
F*ck up the flow, bitch goin' in
She twerkin' alone
You don't wanna touch her
She probably could bite your face
Off in a minute
She hittin' them bath salts
Like it was exfoliating
It's no more glasses cause
The shit's keep breaking
Get your rake up, step up, pour up, burn up
Hold up, shit, you already know
Turn up, turn up, turn up
So when the eyes look marble
That's the code
And the rain is comin' down again
Under the porchlight it glows
It burns when it hit's the skin
Cleans the soul they say
But why would you listen to them?
Just get a new one, like a white tee
At the corner store
They got 'em two for ten
Tryna be down, well he probably could
But that bitch just a little too Hollywood
Took about a pound of the
Charlie 'fore the party good
He ain't never seen a brick they
Shot him where he stood (Step off)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Step)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
(Shh)
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up

Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: DAVEED DIGGS, WILLIAM MORAN HUTSON, JONATHAN RALEIGH SNIPES, CHRISTIAN ANDREW MCLAURIN, ANTONIO WILLIAMS
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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