King Troup Lyrics - I'm Up - Young Thug

I just asked God why he called for Troup 

When it's time to ride, if you love 'em, nigga, prove it 

You know all your lil' niggas gon' shoot shit up for you 

I thought I seen a ghost because your son look like your food 

King Troup 

Action 

I hop out, I'm dabbin' 

My old lady classy 

We onto this fashion 

My coupe sit on dabs 

Hop out with a bad bitch 

My faculty braggin' 

My briefs, they high fashion 

She naked, I walk through the door 

I promise, I promise she know 

I pour up a four and got more 

I'm cold as the North fuckin' Pole 

I came a long way from the stove 

I hop in the foreign, go slow 

Iced out, ain't no time in it, oh 

I just beat the case 

I hopped out the Benz 

I just fucked some twins 

I hopped out again 

Fucked up in the brain 

Got drank in my cup 

I drink lean like I'm Kirko Bangz 

From ashy to classy 

Keep up with my ice and my fashion 

I take care of my kid with a passion 

I pray to God that they stay happy 

Lil Roscoe, he see where it's nasty 

They could've freed him cause he grew up with no daddy 

But instead they took his family and did him badly 

Ain't gettin' no fucker, we were savage 

Gotta counter from the cup and that's all they had 

They also knew that lil' nigga didn't have a wagon 

Damn 

Action 

I hop out, I'm dabbin' 

My old lady classy 

We onto this fashion 

My coupe sit on dabs 

Hop out with a bad bitch 

My faculty braggin' 

My briefs, they high fashion 

She naked, I walk through the door 

I promise, I promise she know 

I pour up a four and die more 

I'm cold as the North fuckin' Pole 

I came a long way from the stove 

I hop in the foreign, go slow 

Iced out, ain't no time in it, oh 

Stop it, stop the killin' 

We, we get millions 

We together, get the cheddar (get them racks) 

Fuck them niggas, keep 'em for real 

Let 'em have it 

Ask God for forgiveness for them babies 

You know Slimes with it, baby, baby 

Stack them racks up to the ceiling, hey, hey 

Fuck you a nigga's old lady 

Keep 'em mad and that's how you know you doin' good 

Keep embarrassin' them with racks that look like books 

On some Fendi, with these bitches 

I need me a real one, I need commitment, where ya at? 

Action 

I hop out, I'm dabbin' 

My old lady classy 

We onto this fashion 

My coupe sit on dabs 

Hop out with a bad bitch 

My faculty braggin' 

My briefs, they high fashion (Versace) 

She naked, I walk through the door 

I promise, I promise she know 

I pour up a four and die more 

I'm cold as the North fuckin' Pole 

I came a long way from the stove 

I hop in the foreign, go slow 

Iced out, ain't no time in it, oh 

She know it, she know it 

She know it, she know it 

She know it, she know it 

She know it, yeah she know it 

She know it 

She know it 

She know it, know it, know it, know it, know it, know it 

King Troup 

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