Str8 Up (Feat. Payboi Carti & Famous Dex) Lyrics By Rich The Kid

Artist/Band Name: Rich The Kid

Album Name: Keep Flexin’

Genre:

Lyrics To Str8 Up (Feat. Payboi Carti & Famous Dex)

[Intro]
Oh, oh
Ah, yeah
That’s it right there bitch
Yah, yah, yah
Straight up, straight up, straight up, straight up

[Verse 1: Playboi Carti]
Take your bag shit straight up
On this cash shit, straight up
Counting cash bitch
Hey I’m counting cash bitch, straight up
And your bitch too basic, straight up
Hey might just face it, straight up
Hey, I think he laced it, straight up
I think he laced it straight up
I’m in Saks, no Macy’s, straight up
Got ’em going crazy, straight up
I just snatched his lady, straight up
Fucked her in a ‘Cedes, straight up

[Hook: Playboi Carti]
Oh, straight up, straight up, straight up, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up

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[Verse 2: Famous Dex]
I’ve been running to the money, yeah I made it straight up
You run up on me, you better have your maker
Lil bro, you so broke, man get your weight up
I threw his bitch up in the ocean, yeah I’m not a saver
Look at my dreads, tattoo they right on my head, I do not talk with the feds
Run up on me then you’re dead
You run up on me, then you’re dead
Straight up, straight up, I swear I got my cake up
Straight up, straight up, I swear I got my cake up

[Hook: Playboi Carti]
Oh, straight up, straight up, straight up, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up

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[Verse 3: Rich The Kid]
We getting money like straight up
Count 100 when I wake up
Diamonds on me, hold my wrists up
I busting on her face uh
Straight up
In the kitchen I’ma whip up a cake
More Act’, I might pour up an eight
You’re flexing hard but them diamonds is fake
Straight up
Rich forever, got your bitch on a pill
More money, give a fuck bout a deal
Rich fo’ got your bitch on chill
Fuck a bitch, I get trenches she lying
Magazines say I’m fresh with diamonds
Poke her head like straight up
My shooter hit your pinky face up

[Hook: Playboi Carti]
Oh, straight up, straight up, straight up, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up
Yah, yah, yah, yah, straight up

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