Lyrics Add It Up – Rob49 feat. G Herbo
Walked out, start the track up
Half a mill’ just touched my account, get yo’ racks up
Just bought a car, I need another one, ’cause I smacked it up
Hit the club and they loving us, this b**ch packed up
My lil’ b**ch think she a city girl, she in here actin’ up
Iced out Rolex, platinum, back up, we’ll clap s**t up
Shoot his face up, can’t get back up
Fire his neck up, tear his back up
What the f**k I’m hiding for
Glizzy when I’m riding
Herbo, what you got that mask for
Foe ‘nem pull up loud, I was low key in that black truck
I’m getting high outside, shirt off, these h*es love ’em tatted up
Thumbin’ through that bag, we don’t look at tags, add it up
Uh, I ain’t chillin’ ’til I’m a hundred plus
Coupe 2022, insides one of one
We in bullet proofs too, but we’ll bail out and shoot too
I got too much s**t I care about, go to jail about, I’ll bail out
If it’s hot, bring hell out
Gave me top and I fell out
Call me not trying to book me
Know it’s hot, but I’ma sell out
Wanna die Where about
We gon’ slide, air it out
Pull up real slick
Pulling off, sped out
Yeah, think ’cause I start rapping, I stop hustling s**t
I’m still in my trap house with my Glock out like I run this b**ch
I’ma beat that block up before I ever try to beat a b**ch
I just did 300k this month, I just was in the trenches
Yeah, I can’t move the same, I got a check now
Treat all of my side h*es like my watches, they get bust down
Since she ain’t trying to f**k me with her friend, get the f**k out
I put 50k inside my gang, in case a war come
Trappin’ and rappin’, my savage get active
I was just on house arrest, now I got my check up
Keep telling bro to watch that car, we gon’ blow together
Yeah, I slime models h*es out, yeah, treat ’em like they nothing
Gang
Uh, I put up so many diamonds, gotta stare
Every time when I’m outside
My b**ch mad, but I don’t care
Holler, I can’t even hear
Prada only thing I wear
Want me paying for that p**sy
It’s expensive, but I pay it
Jumping out that car like soldiers, with that stick up, I’ma get him
If we ain’t do nothing bad together or break bread, I don’t trust you
If she don’t got no fat a*s and give out great head, I don’t touch her
F**k him, face shot, ain’t no ducking
I’m one savage motherf**ker, ayy
Start the track up
Put one twenty in this b**ch, I’m tryna blow the motor
Ain’t got no limit like G Herbo, still gon’ throw my fo’ up
Sell O’s like donuts, still be trappin’ in and out my ho house, n**ga, yeah
Bad b**ch super bougie, get what she what, she f**kin’ a boss now, n**ga
I don’t even wan’ talk, I’m breaded up, my motion giving too much pressure
Put him on a stretcher, tryna touch my necklace, ain’t no disrespecting
I’m in Track hawk, I’m in Scat Pack, my ho bunches up and sprinters
Yeah, haha
Y’all see, I feel like Birdman, 2000
Feel like Soulja Slim in 1999…
➤ Written by Rob49, G Herbo & Southside
Produced by Southside
Rob49 | G Herbo | 2022
