The Cratez - Whatup lyrics

[intro] [Hook: Rob White] Whatup! if you know me then you know That I ain't on the mic being phony for the hoes And if you don't know me don't "bro" me [it's a] thin line between my dogs and my homies, show me your side.. Whatup! to all my listeners abroad I know I'm doing it wrong if all my listeners are broads When I listen to the Gods, I realize MY chances are slim But I don't listen to odds [Verse 1: Rob White] <>Let me just say <> Whatup, all the people listening that's EVER met me? [I] bet you I was fresh as f** if we was kickin it But you don't know what style is, so you'd probably bet me I was testing my luck with all your chicks and sh** And now I'm R.I.P.'ing sh**, tombstone scripture verses Without flashing cheese Co' still picture perfect I put my 2 cents in, that's only if she's worth it Times five in face is when the chick deserves it.. Real sh**, I'm EXTRA down to earth.. Even though I'm known to get around the earth [I] hit most of the U.S., [a] LOT of the foreign turf, Australia's about the only place I haven't gone to surf.. (yeah) And that's before you heard a verse Or my voice Or my choice of female That I'm likely to throw my email or my number to And those females that slumbered through I see'em now and they be comin to... [hook] [Verse 2: Rob White] <>Let me also say<> To everybody that DON'T know me, what up homies..? [I] guess we'll get aquatinted over beats But I'd rather get to know you in person runnin the streets homie.. So you can put my actions to the speech Since cameras don't be snapping on me You can't follow my every move in a mag Or every girl that I bag Or every whip that I drag out the spot to go cruise wit... So at least if you follow my music you can know what I'm doing cause what I holler is true sh** [I] got my own paper your dollar is useless Labels, you can't pay me to spit about sh** that ain't me cause THAT Would be the same thing that made me ever view this.. As the worst place That's why a n***a can't stop until I'm first place.. in this cursed race.. It's known to turn a n***a's life to shambles but I'm known to gamble that's word to my birthplace [hook] [Verse 3: Rob White] <>now I GOTTA say<> Whatup to those that REALLY know me? Those that know OF me [are] going [to] be telling all [of] their friends that we was really homies And those [are] the ones that shrugged their shoulders when I was flowing on Facebook, but let me separate the real from the phony; If you ain't get busy wit me, same time, same chick [then] you're just riding Cane's dick like a broad would And if your son ain't my God Son you're faker than Drake, telling people that we're on one, [what the] f** is THAT!? If you ain't got a Cabernet Lac.. Or a Royal Cutla** you not the boys that I f**s wit 7 dudes total I ever felt related to so if I make a "started from the bottom," No replacement crew! Young Eight-O makes 8 though, his face is new.. (yeah) But it's like I knew him since the age of 2 And then of course the 9-iron is my dog Putt [we] going Tiger with the wood on these broads what.. Up? [hook]