Chin Up - Waka Flocka Flame, Slim Dunkin

I got friends that need, family to feed

Friends that need, family to feed

(Bricksqaud Monopoly)

The industry grew me up mentally

Physically, financially ya’ll can’t fuck with me

I’m soon to be in the top three put it on the

Beat my G. Partner got two, Brother got two

Momma got five momma got eight.

It ain’t

Bout cake plus a nigga I’m straight.

Eat it out

The pot I don’t need no plate, you can ask

My girl I don’t need no date.

Four singles up

Aye shawty you late.

Sleep when I’m dead meet

Me at my wake.

Ninety-five problems like the

Beast awake (west side).

Everytime they hate

I act alright.

I love every beat southside make

They call me mister eight-oh-eight.

Roll up blunts

I don’t do no shake.

House on the hill I don’t want no lake

Pump yo bricks why u worried bout us.

Monopoly

Boys in the squad I trust plus I got friends in need, family

To feed.

Flag in my pocket as unity.

Not the same person I

Used to be.

I ain’t going nowhere, get used to me Flocka!

Pick yo chin up (Flocka) don’t walk with your head down

Those just words don’t let them knock you down

I got friends that need, family to feed

Friends that need, family to feed

All for one one for all.

One swing we all swing

All these niggas they got my back, a mill ticket that’s chump

Change I got friends that need, family to feed

Friends that need, family to feed

Cause gettin' money don’t make shit (Nope)

Nigga never gave me nothing, had to take shit

Whole hood rep blue like the Patriots (Squad)

Got the Glock like nigga do the matrix (Pow)

Niggas start breaking laws, fuck jail.

Went to court

Judge was like no bail (Shit) I don seen a lot of things on the

Dope scale.

I ain’t trap rob a nigga wholesale.

Fifty deep

Everybody gotta eat (gotta eat) one bed everybody gotta sleep

(Gotta sleep) spend hours in the line just to folks.

Put

Barack in the office, nigga still broke.

Daddy beat momma

Ass, yeah I had it rough.

Fucked a nigga up so I got big enough

Did shit nigga hoping to do, why you want my autograph nigga

I’m broker than u.

Momma cried, two jobs.

two, work

Forgive me my God, I’m fucked up, times hard.

Dirty shoes

Rent due, D Moss we miss you.

Behind the mic, they don’t

Know what Slim D been through… Dunk!

Pick yo chin up (Flocka) don’t walk with your head down

Those just words don’t let them knock you down

I got friends that need, family to feed

Friends that need, family to feed

All for one one for all.

One swing we all swing

All these niggas they got my back, a mill ticket that’s chump

Change I got friends that need, family to feed

Friends that need, family to feed