调：C minor
Verse 1
Yeah, it's your boy Lil Jon
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tell him what's on your mind
Some of y 'all niggas
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Yeah, y 'all done fucked up now
Get too close up on the niggas
That's right
You better back on up
You got me fucked up
You better back on up
Back on up, back on up, bitch
back on up
Back on up, you got me fucked up,
back on up
back on up
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It's time to open up the trunk,
Ladies make your body jump
like a 12 -gauge pump
Cause I know it blurs your vision
when you see it glisten
Off my neck and wrist
Let the old school know
Whole new nigga with a whole new flow
Nitro Game well -rounded,
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sorta like a Typho Win or spring or fall,
get the jaws and the drawers
Pause for the calls if the
money ain't involved
Before you spread leg,
make sure you spread cheddar
Remember, take a picture,
write a letter
Whatever blows your dress up
Cause I don't give a fuck
and now you actin' up
But while you're all up on me,
you better black on up
You got me fucked up, you black on up
you better black on up
You got me fucked up,
you better black on up
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Black on up, bitch, black on up
stress when I arrive
Give you swimming lessons,
cut my 4 -5, I'll teach you how to dive
My flows will make your hoes
close your whole factory
turn them into freaks
They love the way
I emphasize my words when I speak
I'm a player, baby
Holla at me, I gotta have it,
why you at it, baby?
Same with the flavor,
the way that I spray the paper
It's greater, so them haters,
they try to delay the caper
Philly Phil
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Hey, Bill Klein, tell the cell very well
so you feelin' like some vinegar
You don't flow like nitro,
that's why they don't remember ya
soon as I get into ya
Spit strong, make dick long as La Cienega
you got me fucked up
Black on up, black on up
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Black on up, you got me fucked up
Back on up, you got me fucked up
Reach for the sky
You try to get sly
I'ma teach you how to fly
And you ain't gotta leap
That pistol grip pump
That lift you off your feet
I'm a boss so they follow me
That's how you acknowledge me
Boy, you know the policy
Who you thought it was supposed to be
Your baby mama croakin' me,
another nigga bitch
Cause bullshit always interfere
with gettin' rich
this a player's confession
I done learned my lesson
by blockin' my blessin'
with a fresh set of keys
Bentley, Mercedes,
somethin' made overseas
rough and unruly
Who put us on the map?
Who you think?
you got me fucked up
With my boy SB on the track
And that's Lil Jon in the background
With your boy Nitro
It's my time, boy
You can't tell
We doing it to death in the 405 OKC
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You can't stop me
you
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