Azealia Banks Fuck Up The Sun Lyrics

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Tell him to keep that
Yeah just play the track stop cuttin it off
And lemme-lemme pop my shit
It is what it is hehe
Fuck is ya’ll niggas doing
You ready bitch
What up what up whatup
Yo Yo Yo Yo!

Who want it, Who-who want it
Which nigga little goon is gettin stewed with a onion
Niggas all cute til the roogs in abundance
And ya dude get to running with the womb in his stomach
Bitch nigga, bitch get ya nigga
All these niggas just a little food for the dinner
And these niggas better tuck in their little jewels when I enter
Cause your bitch hot nigga finna fuck up the fun
Don’t fuck with your bitch when the rum in her punch
I might dance on these niggas but the gun in the butt
The gold Jimmy’s little mirror little stun in the clutch
And don’t slip up little nigga, ‘fore the stun in your nuts
Yo’ dude bout to fuck up your trust
He gonna run when I hit ya, put you under the pump
You gonna run with your nigga, now you closer enough
To shoot once in the throat leave ya both in a slump (huh)

Go head go head nigga pop off
You can get your fam and your man’s and them shot off
I’mma get the AMS for ya and blow your top off
Shit funny til the gun in your face
You better run with your nigga, better open the safe
You better come up with the money better show up the weight
I’m gonna come with gorillas cause I run with the apes
And put shots in your butt like you wanted the cake

Most of ya’ll niggas is fucking pussies out here
Like I’ll smack all ya’ll niggas in the face
All in the mouth and All in the shit
Like where ya’ll nigga’s be comin from
Ya’ll niggas is not
Ok Ok Ok Ok Oh shit

Bitches better quit that chat
These bitches better hold up with the yizzap-yap
I grips the 5th then click-clizzack clack
I hate to have to blow your little wig all back
I mean I hate to see you with your wig off bitch
I see you tryna come and get on bitch
You gonna trip, slip, fall land and lick on dick
It be the same nigga bout to come and lick on this
Scram hit the breeze
You a fan bitch please
Don’t sit up in my presence of ya lil bambin
Don’t get it at ya residence and get it so clean
Cause I’m slicker with the evidence and bitches won’t speak
And we can freak with your man this week
Bad bitches, you a nickel and your pussy game weak
I’m fickle and my pussy named peach
I can disappear and let the pussy game speak
Let the pussy game speak
Nigga’s know the center of the pussy stay pink
All these bitches better keep it going light feet
‘Fore I reach and that thing go BRRRRRRRRRAAAAAHHHHH!

Who want it, Who-who want it
Which nigga little goon
Which nigga little goon
Who want it, Who-who want it
Which nigga little goon
Which nigga little goon
Who want it, Who-who want it

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