Duse Beatz – Uchies

Duse Beatz – Uchies Lyrics

Artist: Duse Beatz
Song: Uchies

Uchies, uchies, uchies
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Hmmmmm
Try me? Please you don’t have enough uchies

Let alone, enough groupies, I’m out with the broski, tell me how you wanna do it
Killers ride to my music, on God I can’t think straight
A buck fifty on the e-way, they ain’t never finna get me, they ain’t never finna get me
But they can get high speed chase

Anything for the uchies, tryna tell you I’m the Ruler
Heads down when you speak to me, get on your knees when you greet me
You know I got it in me, and then your attitude frivolous
Don’t like pops in my business, too many pops from the beginning, I’m riding with a sentence

I’m all about the uchies, tired of bump-ins with new
They be acting like they won’t
Ten bands for a lawyer, that was just for him to speak to me
n#gg#s wanna write grievances, ’cause they hating on my #ss, why they hating on my ass?

‘Cause they hugging on the block, I tried to tell you I’m the problem
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Uchies uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Anything for the uchies, anything for the uchies

Anything, anything, anything for the uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything, anything, anything for the uchies
Midnight mission on my b#llsh#t

Looking for some money and a cool b#tch
Still getting money off of Youzza Flip
You looking like a bum, like a hipster b#tch
You bummies, other people’s money

12 years old, got beat up for serving dummies
I love the uchi, got damn I love the money
My play auntie, was my favorite smoker
Taught me how to cook up shake and play poker

Let me hustle out her car to go to Oakland
Go stupid, got hyphy with the hustle
And I yatted out this gat
I used to sell my lunch tickets, and hit the dice game

Ohh, Drakeo, that’s Mr. Get Dough
Jay 305, Mr. Mr. Good Dough
Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Uchies uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies

Anything for the uchies, anything for the uchies
Anything, anything, anything for the uchies
Anything for the uchies
Anything, anything, anything for the uchies

Mr. Uchies, cold devil, it’s life threatening
Chop a n#gg# down for these pints, it’s my medicine
Four in chili baba, b#tch you ain’t getting nada
Keep the blood to your bottle, ’cause I never wore Prada

Bleed ’em, f#ck it, these n#gg#s, I never need ’em
Riding in the Boondocks and dodgin’ the Stinkmeaner, bleating
Ain’t f#cking him, ain’t f#cking me neither
A fake watch, a fake chain, on me there’s neither

The Stinc Team, this n#gg#’s a meat beater
Silly Billy, call Shirley n#gg#, ’cause we leaving
Twenty strips on the floor for any n#gg# competing
Jesus, somebody call a deacon

Threw so much money, sh#t the need a clean
I should get a beating, all this money I’m receiving
Threw so much, sh#t the altar need a cleaning
‘Cause b#tch I’m getting uchies, believe it

Uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Uchies uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies, uchies
Anything for the uchies, anything for the uchies
Anything, anything, anything for the uchies

Anything for the uchies
Anything, anything, anything for the uchies
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Duse Beatz Lyrics – Uchies

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Release Year: 2016