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letra de what goes up - slim the mobster

[intro: snoop dogg]

say, man
20 years in the game, man
and there’s one thing i found out, man
the game will revolve, and it will come to you if it’s meant for you to have it
but what’s real and what’s fake is..

[verse 1: slim the mobster]

what goes up must come down
but i promise to shake the world up if my feet touch the ground
now i party ’till the patron out
start a fight and get thrown out
party out of control now
tell the bartender send another round to the the women
but only the fly women
not a gold digger mistress
smelling money through my denim
silk suits and linen
the big coup is tinted
the tv’s like a 10 inch
the definition of menace
b-tches stay on my d-ck
24 hour fitness
they surprised i did it
now the sky’s the limit
they say money bring power and what did i do to get it
in the pursuit of happiness, i’m will smith with it
no pen, no pad, just real swift with it
my music is all i had when no b-tch could deal with it
left a lot of sh-t in the past, your -ss along with it
make sure i send you a plaque every time i get it
for every time you told me to quit it and i didn’t
i hope you get the post card and pictures
the letters when i send them
look at the view i’m getting
cheers to your b-tches, here’s to you b-tches

[verse 2: snoop dogg]

hahaha
yeah
here’s to you b-tches
especially you bucky mouth b-tches that
didn’t think a n-gga was gonna make it
yeah, now i’m having money, cars, bank accounts, blowing big kush
i’m so mother f-cking high in the sky
i think i’m a mother f-cking california bald eagle
yeah, b-tch. a bald eagle
can you dig that?

catch me if you can, mother f-cker i’m sky high
walking up on you, i ain’t doing no drive-bys
drug rehab take a stab at my red eyes
9 shot, fly swat, leaving you dead flys
last call, asphalt, got your -ss taped off
make off, break off, taking my cape off
head to the back ?? with slim in the back seat
dre and dogg back, we ain’t f-cking with wack beats
b-tch -ss n-ggas who ain’t brought nothing back like
all in my lane, boy, get out my spot light
not playing no more, man f-ck a pop record
better make a hot record, i ain’t gon’ say it no more
uh, we twist, drip, and ball
ya’ll motha f-ckas better listen to dogg
get the b-tches, the drank, the money and respect
and never hit the set without your tec on deck
ya digg?

- slim the mobster

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