Back Up - clipping.

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 fuck 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, fuck 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 shits 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 hits 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