Hol' Up

[Verse 1]
I wrote this record while thirty-thousand feet in the air
Stewardess complimenting me on my nappy hair
If I can f*ck her in front of all of these passengers
They'll probably think I'm a terrorist, eat my asparagus
Then I'm asking her thoughts of a young n*gga
Fast money and freedom, a crash dummy for dollars
I know you dying to meet him, I'll probably die in a minute
Just bury me with twenty b*tches, twenty million, and a Comptown fitted

[Chorus]
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Yeah, big sh*t popping — Section.80

[Verse 2]
Back in this b*tch, in the back of that b*tch
With my back against the wall
And your b*tch on the edge of my di*k —
Jump off
I call a b*tch a b*tch, a hoe a hoe, a woman a woman
I never did nothing but break the ground on top of the asphalt
Tire mark gave you evidence that I'm easily peddling
With the speed of a lightning bolt
As a kid I killed two adults, I'm too advanced
I lived my twenties at two years old, the wiser man
Truth be told, I'm like eighty-seven
Wicked as eighty reverends in a pool of fire with devils holding hands
From a distance don't know which one is a Christian, damn
Who can I trust in two-thousand-and-twelve?
There's no one, not even myself
A Gemini screaming for help, somebody

[Chorus]
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Yeah, big sh*t poppin', everybody watchin'
When you do it like this, n*gga, losing ain't a option
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Yeah, big sh*t poppin' —
Hey, hey, kick her out the studio, Ali

[Verse 3]
Twenty-four-seven, n*gga working his ass for it, she popping that ass for it
The King of Diamonds with diamonds, I never do ask for it
They checking my passport, I'm too accustomed with customs
She callin' the task force, I killed it, somebody cuff him
They want me to fast-forward the game, and why you complain
When you n*ggas is past poor? You'll never hop in my lane
When you pushing a RAV4, you wrecking my Jaguar
You play like a bad sport, her feet on the dashboard

[Chorus]
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Yeah, big sh*t poppin', everybody watchin'
When you do it like this, n*gga, losing ain't an option
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Hol' up (hol' up), hol' up (hol' up)
Yeah, big sh*t poppin', everybody watchin'
When you do it like this, n*gga

[Outro]
I wrote this record while thirty-thousand feet in the air
Stewardess complimenting me on my nappy hair
If I can f*ck her in front of all of these passengers
They'll probably think I'm Osama
The plane emergency landed, it was an honor
Hol' up