What’s Up Re-Up Gang (Ft. Pharrell Williams)

[Verse 1: Ab-Liva]
From a hustler, play the part of a smuggler
Dish it to my jugglers, get it out to the customers
Six forty five CI, them hoes loving us
But I felt the top would smother us
Got the roof transplanted, so now that the sun's touching us
Plus the inside with the coach leather the comfort
Sitting on blades like Shaq shoes is up under us
Came a long way for the thing
For twenty five-five to tip under the muffler
Move it with my Southerner niggas
That rep they hood, putting on they strugglers
I get it, I grab it, I cook it, I move it, I sell it
See it, I cop it, I drop it, I chrome it, I shell it
I un-fail it, I switch lanes
Left-hand turn, burn baby burn
Nights, watch the arms heal it
Complimented, the German cell is augmented
Still says classy, no matter what the frost in it

[Verse 2: Pusha T]
SL be the coupe, roof off the drop
Neck out the top; look at me, Jack in the Box
You acting a lot -- you ain’t Big, you ain’t Pac
And we only respect J. Prince for rapping a lot
"Your reign on the top" -- never quote him, I ain't know him
You ain't kissed his mama, how the fuck you ride for him?
You dick-eating niggas probably wish you died for him
And I admired his work, but I ain't never cried for him
Hoping the dead blow him up, maybe this'll grow 'em up
Hundred and fifty K every time Pusha showing up
Shimmering hand, shimmering band, I'm glimmer man
Chain star-studded like it's Viva La Glam
Nigga jackass like Viva La Bam
Looked down upon like Kris did to Shan
One thousand grams wrapped neat in Saran
Label me landlord, I keep ki's in my hand