Twista — Hands Up Lay Down

[Chorus: Twista] Hands uuuuup, lay dowwwwwn Count to ten before you get up off the ground When you do I disappear, like the matrix But if you don't, then my thumper gon' leave you wasted Hands uuuuup, lay dowwwwwn Count to ten before you get up off the ground When you do I disappear, like the matrix But if you don't, then my thumper gon' leave you wasted [Verse 1: Twista] Dude tried to steal on me, so I'm already pumped (WHAT!) Why you steady standin' there talkin' that shit? B-Hype gon' go to the trunk Unload the fivers, SKs and millimeter choppers I got niggas that be killers with some shit that when you shoot it on the block it sound like a helicopter It's hard out ch'ere, motherfuckers ain't got no work It's a few niggas got cocaine, few niggas got dope, most niggas got purp' Lil' nigga tried to play you shady, instead of yellin' out three folks and almighty They be talkin' 'bout '80s babies, shorties that was born in the '90s is grimy No respect and no morals, actin' like you owe that shit Fuck up out my face big homie, matter fact gon' load that shit It done got so crazy up in the streets sometimes I can't believe that this my land Lil' girls used to wanna fuck a dope boy, now they wanna fuck a stick-up man [Chorus: Twista] Hands uuuuup, lay dowwwwwn Count to ten before you get up off the ground When you do I disappear, like the matrix But if you don't, then my thumper gon' leave you wasted Hands uuuuup, lay dowwwwwn Count to ten before you get up off the ground When you do I disappear, like the matrix But if you don't, then my thumper gon' leave you wasted [Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame] Midwest shawty I'm in the club with the Folks, Midwest shawty I'm in the club with the Lords Midwest shawty I'm in the club with the Stones, them Latin King boys man they minds straight gone What's bangin' joe? Pants hang low, why you start playin', that's the [?] gang Came a long way from sellin' weed, pills and cocaine, niggas catch a body just to get a little street fame C'mon got crunk, that's cream now Flocka, keep ya on ya toes, I ain't playin' wit'chu nigga The way a nigga rob ya I think I need a Oscar, trick booty nigga I ain't playin' wit'cha partner They say Flock (WHAT!) yo' friends don't know how to act We shootin' and fightin' over here, and that's a real muh'fuckin' fact Blap, bottle full of Fuki, damu version of Tookie All these tats make a nigga wanna shoot me, all these diamonds make a groupie wanna do me Who are you to judge it bruh? Ho please trip, hell yeah we grippin' Cut me one time yo the nigga catch you slippin' all that bullshit everyday set trippin' (WAKA FLOCKA! FLOCKA! WAKA! FLOCKA! FLOCKA!)