UP THERE! Lyrics – ISSBROKIE

Read the full UP THERE! lyrics by ISSBROKIE from the album SWAGGOT! (B SIDE) along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Issbrokie’s music, you can also explore DUFFY! and RUNNIN, GUNNIN, GONE!, two other songs by Issbrokie.

[Intro]
U—u-u-u-

[Pre-Chorus]
Why they count a b!tch out? (Why they count a b!tch out?)
Tryna dumb a b!tch down (Tryna dumb a b!tch down)
Tryna change my sound (Tryna change my sound)
Say I shouldn’t be proud (Say I shouldn’t be proud)
B!tch, I’m finna get loud (I’m finna get loud)
Gotta pound them, b!tch, bounce (Pound them, b!tch, bounce)
Finna walk a b!tch out (Finna walk a b!tch out)
Finna walk a b!tch down, yeah

[Chorus]
Lil’ b!tch who ain’t banging no gun
In the two-tone, Caddy with my name on the front, b!tch, what?
I done felt a lot of pain where I’m from
Broke b!tch, but I promise that some change gon’ come
When I’m up there, fu*k fame, fu*k number one
B!tch, I’d rather be unknown with a chain than have none
New hat, new hoodie and the J’s gone dumb
Man, I promise I’m a momma, you ain’t rеally want none

[Verse]
When I’m up therе, up there, I let it burp, boy
Old town, Philly, anywhere I let it spurt, boy
G-walking b!tch, two-stepping out a BART, boy
You ain’t get caught from me tryna make my art, boy
Ugh, get your own bag, get a start, boy
I don’t know s*it, but my music in the fur, boy
I was in the town selling fake cars, boy
You ain’t done s*it past selling fake carts, boy
Hot b!tch, hot steak, got wrist, got cake
Hater hoes locking in the Pratt State, b!tch, what?
Load him up like the fu*king guy
Spray locked in all day, on the go, get paid, b!tch, what?
B!tch, couldn’t walk a block in my J’s

Walk a flock, I replaying these beats by Jay, b!tch, what?
I ain’t social, (??) swear that I has gays
With the way I hate faggots, people think that b!tch straight, b!tch, yeah

[Pre-Chorus]
Why they count a b!tch out? (Why they count a b!tch out?)
Tryna dumb a b!tch down (Tryna dumb a b!tch down)
Tryna change my sound (Tryna change my sound)
Say I shouldn’t be proud (Say I shouldn’t be proud)
B!tch, I’m finna get loud (B!tch, I’m finna get loud)
Gotta pound them, b!tch, bounce (Gotta pound them, b!tch, bounce)
Finna walk a b!tch out (Finna walk a b!tch out)
Finna walk a b!tch down (Finna walk a b!tch down)

[Chorus]
Yeah, lil’ b!tch who— b!tch who— b!tch who ain’t banging no gun
In the two-tone, Caddy with my name on the front, b!tch, what?
I done felt a lot of pain where I’m from
Broke b!tch, but I promise that some change gon’ come
When I’m up there, fu*k fame, fu*k number one
B!tch, I’d rather be unknown with a chain than have none
New hat, new hoodie and the J’s gone dumb
Man, I promise I’m a momma, I’m a momma, you ain’t really one
B!tch who ain’t banging no gun
In the two-tone, Caddy with my name on the front, b!tch, what?
I done felt a lot of pain where I’m from
Broke b!tch, but I promise that some change gon’ come
When I’m up there, fu*k fame, fu*k number one
B!tch, I’d rather be unknown with a chain than have none
New hat, new hoodie and the J’s gone dumb
Man, I promise I’m a momma, you ain’t really want none
When I’m up—