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letra de the switch up - nick grant

[intro]
yeah, i hear you n-ggas talkin’
real n-gga for real

[chorus: nick grant]
new money, who dis
new phone, who dis
new life, who dis
switched up, yeah
text from my ex like who dis
and i got the same number, who dis
swerve on point like who dis, yeah
switched up, yeah
new money, who dis
new phone, who dis
new life, who dis
switched up, yeah
text from my ex like who dis
and i got the same number, who dis
swerve on point like who dis, yeah
i done switched up

[verse 1: nick grant]
back like jordan with the 45, boy i’m at your neck like bowtie
no i’m at your neck like clothesline, yeah i’m bout the green like go sign
real n-gga real n-gga no lie, real n-gga real n-gga no lie
rap god, rap god, rap god, i ain’t need a rapper to cosign me
brand new drop top no miles, inside dark like closed eyes
and i might pull up at your hoe house
small town n-gga but i’m worldwide
man i blew the check like i’m verified
you know them n-ggas ride in their spare time
boy i been the sh-t since ’05, no i been the sh-t this whole time
i got the juice, like i threw pac off the roof
my shooters hop out in suits, no way in h-ll he could not be this cool
no i’m no novice, i’m out on the move
she wanna hang like a knot in a noose
i fool a g*nius when i play the fool
future so bright you forgot who was who
straight to the money my pockets on jew

[verse 2: yo gotti]
new b-tch, h-llo
street sh-t, yola
boost mobile nextel chirp
trap phone, work
wanna save the ho, go to church n-gga
she hurt your feelings, take a perc n-gga
you ain’t f-ck her right if she don’t lurk n-gga
on her friend page tryna search a n-gga
ex b-tch crazy, but i knew that
put the b-tch on block we don’t do that
could’ve put her on the spot we don’t do that
yeah the b-tch f-ck a oop we don’t do that
i’m a street n-gga yeah b-tch i’m anti phone
you a email gangster type all day long
i ain’t got no feeling wanna leave b-tch gone
i ain’t got no opinions, no rights, no wrongs
say i am what i am b-tch and i ain’t gone change
eighty on the watch, two fifty on the chain
we drink champagne, just to swallow with the pain
ain’t gone change sh-t cause i owe it to the game
shootout in the ‘rari reup in the range
f-ck her in the wraith just to put her on game
let her see the stars just to put it on her brain
then f-ck her in the chevy, gang

[verse 3: nick grant]
young n-gga never need a handout
still they wanna give a n-gga dap now
tell my old girl i’m the man now
yeah i had everything planned out
when i had nothing n-ggas ran out
now they hit the phone for the whereabouts
no i ain’t saying i’m a street n-gga, but i was home alone in the trap house
yeah n-gga, mama was a shooter, yeah you know my daddy was a hustler
f-cked around made a real dope n-gga, got trouble when i’m going through customs
yeah i took my n-ggas through a few doors
but when you in the crib take your shoes off
riding through the city with my new broad
and she love the bay like too $hort
dance on the money like mike
n-ggas sell they soul for some likes
feel like ai with the cross, no i ain’t relying on the right
yeah i’m in the bank for the heist, broke n-ggas keep your advice
yeah i’m a standout n-gga, like frank luc at the fight, yikes

- nick grant

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