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Artist: Young Dolph f/ 2 Chainz, Juicy J
Album:  High Class Street Music 5: The Plug Best Friend (Mixtape)
Song:   Pulled Up
Typed by: AZ Lyrics

[Verse 1: Young Dolph]
I don't get mad, I just get paid
Smelling like a pound, walking in the bank
I been smoking weed, before the 5th grade
This a man's world, bitch stay in your place
Shitting on your favorite rapper, did it by mistake
Went and got a mansion, went and got a maid
Naw I ain't got a deal, but I got a Wraith
I call my clientele, I'm sorry for the wait
All these pounds in my traphouse, feel like I'm out of shape
These bitches love me man, I'm drinking muddy man
Drop a four in a ginger ale, it tastes like bubbly man
Young nigga hit a lick now you can't tell me nothing man

[Chorus x2: Young Dolph]
Pulled up in a Porsche, pulled off in a Wraith
Pulled up in a Porsche, pulled off in a Wraith
Pulled up in a Porsche, pulled off in a Wraith
I saw my old bitch yesterday, you should've seen her face

[Verse 2: 2 Chainz]
Pulled up in a Porsche, that bitch too anemic
Got that Rolls Royce, that bitch too conceited
Then I got them feet, had to get a pedi
Bought Keisha the Audi, you other niggas petty
Bet you ain't got more money than Harmony an' Heaven
Flat black Chevy, flat black MAC 11
I'm rolling up by the pound, you rolling up by the seven
Walk in the room with the black and white fur
That bitch that look like a panda
I put the slang in the gram, I just might loan you a phantom
I do this shit for Atlanta, shoot that bitch up with a cannon
All that I want is some Act, whip that shit up with a Fanta
Niggas don't know how to act
When I pull up, bitches pull out the cameras

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3: Juicy J]
Pulled up in that 911, pulled off in a Wraith
This my second one this year, it still got paper plates
I'm laughing out the lot the way I'm laughing to the bank, ha ha
All you niggas standing in line, you need more food to fill my plate
Swear you pussy niggas sweeter than some crème brulee
I got niggas in the kitchen that'll razorblade your face
I'm frying chicken in my fucking Wraith, ghetto nigga
Eating Dodger's chicken in my fucking Wraith
What can I say, greasy fingers
Spill some hot sauce on that leather suede
Ceiling BBQ interior, collard green exterior
All these cars outside I can't decide which one to drive
And all these hoes outside I can't decide which one I want inside

[Chorus x2]