Shut Up Lyrics - Guerrilla - Don Trip

Feat. Don Trip 

() 

I need a calculator and a tape measure 

To count it up, my paper long 

Shoot your ass with this 22 

And you won't die untill you make it home 

I don't give a fuck about life 

That's my favorite song 

We beefin', just know my money right 

I could park for (???) 

See me in a rental car, pro'ly right, feel good 

Drive like somebody wanna kill me, 

Somebody gotta feel me 

A lot of my partners pro'ly platinum 

They shot somebody then forgot about it 

It's magic, pro'ly can't lie about it 

Peace for that master cush, let's just say 

I'm 'bout it, ride it 

Chilling with my Booja bitch, all she eat is calamari 

Man went and got killed 

Go check her closet, call a party(?) 

Broke nig' with the small product 

Shooting like a bottle rocket 

East side, I gotta shout it 

Parachuting, sky diving 

Pellet selling, rock climbing 

Brothers jumping of the highest mountain 

That's fly shit, my kind of shit, 

I might ask your lady is she can drive a stick 

I'm stunting hard, I bought them all 

Take her wid me, I won't buy her shit 

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(Pre-) 

If you don't owe a nigga shit, then this yo' song 

If you are, you ain't playn wid it, you know you are 

You might feel like me and say fuck 'em, 

And then move on 

What eva the case, I ain't tryna kid you, just say the line 

Shut up, bitch, I'm grindin' 

Shut up, bitch, I'm grindin' 

Looking for me, lets talk money 

That's the only way you will find me 

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In case you needed a reminder 

We on that grind quip 

Won't be surprised that my shoes will scoop 

Looka how I climbed up 

Working now like the fitness club 

Moving pound without signing up 

Put cameras er'where 

Nigga, I'm tired of fucking a blouse 

My niggas is where you find us 

Your baby momma justify slut 

The only way she having my kid 

Is she don't swallow for nine months 

I finally mae my mind good 

Ain't tryna end up in no line, no 

Been major since I was a minor 

Earn money more than vagina 

I'm tryna tell ya I'm scared to talk on my segment 

A hundid pounds of that grade A 

My momma ain't raising no failure 

I finally got my bells up 

Fuck it, why am I using a scale 

Straps, I neva get held up 

They won't find your ass 'til they smell you 

Two pumps like an inhaler 

Two months ago I took it ill, brother 

I'm just now bouncing up from it 

Tryna dribble up these lil' rap money 

You niggas ready for gas money 

Still cashing checks from cash money 

Grind like I'm down to my last honey 

Ride 'til I die like a crash dummie 

When I'm out, make aturn, yo, I'm riding around 

Got my mind on the thousand right now, bitch 

When I'm out in the town, ain't no putting me down 

Cause them niners are part of my outfit 

Shoe with the signers I cunt with 

Few hundid bands on my house, bitch 

I'm going in like I'm grounded 

And my yungins fly, I say round trip 

(Pre-) 

If you don't owe a nigga shit, then this yo' song 

If you are, you ain't playn wid it, you know you are 

You might feel like me and say fuck 'em, 

And then move on 

What eva the case, I ain't tryna kid you, just say the line 

Shut up, bitch, I'm grindin' 

Shut up, bitch, I'm grindin' 

Looking for me, lets talk money 

That's the only way you will find me