Yung Bans, Gunna, Young Thug - Hold Up

[Intro: Yung Bans & Future] Hold up Wheezy outta here Hol' up, hol' up Hol' up, hol' up Uh, uh, ooh [Chorus: Yung Bans] Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up Ayy, hundred racks on me right now, little bitch Shut your mouth and drink my kids Freaky lil' hoe might drink my piss Wake up, go hit a lick, can't miss Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up [Verse 1: Yung Bans] Hol' up, lil' bitch, I don't want you, lil' bitch I ain't cuffin' no shit, you belong to this dick (Wheezy outta here) Thing got your body in a bag Pull up right now and embarrass you, yeah All of these sticks, I'm a terrorist Your boyfriend a bitch, I'ma scare him, yeah Nut in your hoe, end your marriage She fucked the gang, I'ma share her [Verse 2: Gunna] The stones in my ear are three carats (Hold on) Niggas talk remind me of a parrot (Carats) I'm in that zone, I put that shit on They tryna figure out what I'm wearing (Oh) Fly like a drone, go shop in Patron [?] right after the Jeffery (Yeah) Addicted to clothes, I dress up my hoes They give me her dome, while I sit on her throne (Yeah) (Wheezy outta here) Hol' up, woah, hol' up Whole lotta gas, we got bricks, bucks You left that bank in a lambo, trucks Hol' up, hol' up I went and got in my bag, yup Don't play with them slimes, we gon' smash you up (Wheezy outta here) Hol' up, hol' up, Hol' up [Chorus: Yung Bans & Young Thug] Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up Ayy, hundred racks on me right now, little bitch (Yeah yeah) Shut your mouth and drink my kids (Yeah yeah) Freaky lil' hoe might drink my piss Wake up, go hit a lick, can't miss (Woo, woo) Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up (Woo) [Verse 3: Young Thug] I caught a body I killed all the oppies I dress and heard Bochie I didn't love my papi I sold him some soap man, I told him it's molly Automatic the coupe, automatic the shotty I drip in all white, can't look with no spotties I gotta spider, my idle is spiking (Wheezy outta here) Fuck with the wagon, can't mingle nobody I bury him alive in the back of the Swat Bitches perform in the line it's a spot Merc them and let them sit down and just ride it Shot up his coupe and we shot up the shop I don't care about no court, I don't care about no cops (Wheezy outta here) Hol' up, hol' up [Chorus: Yung Bans] Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up Ayy, hundred racks on me right now, little bitch Shut your mouth and drink my kids Freaky lil' hoe might drink my piss Wake up, go hit a lick, can't miss Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up