Sideline Watching (Hold Up) – Lil Uzi Vert

Hold up, hold up, hold up (what?)
Let me catch my breath (yeah)
Let me count these checks (what?)
Flex on my ex (yeah)
I don’t got no respect (I don’t, I don’t)
Break up in a text (what?)
Pull up in a G (yeah)
T3 fly off in a jet (vroom!)

Pull up, I’m suited
And you know I got my toolie
Okay, I might Bentley Coupe it
Heard you pull up, mini cooper
Told that lil bitch that she stupid
Okay these niggas can’t move me
Okay these bitches can’t move me
Those are not diamonds, they’re rubies
Wait that’s not rubies, that’s glass
Smack that bitch right on the ass (what?)
I know that she’s scared to lose me (what?)
Yea my Polo be from Louis
Niggas act like they was rootin’
But they really be some goofies (they is)
If you don’t like me then sue me (what?)
Yea my new girl got that booty
That my new girl up in Gucci
Yeah, what?
That my new girl up in Gucci
Yeah, what?
Spend them bands all up in Gucci (Yeah)
Look at your chain who your jeweler? (What)
You need to come to my jeweler (Come on)
I put a chain on my shooter (yeah)
I put a stick on my Ruger (baa)
In her dreams like Freddy Krueger (Yeah)
Just met her, act like I knew her (I knew her)
Rari pull off Ferris Bueller (yeah, yeah)

Hold up, hold up, hold up (what?)
Let me catch my breath (yeah)
Let me count these checks (what?)
Flex on my ex (yeah)
I don’t got no respect (I don’t, I don’t)
Break up in a text (what?)
Pull up in a G (yeah)
T3 fly off in a jet (vroom!)
Hold up, hold up, hold up (what?)
Let me catch my breath (yeah)
Let me count these checks (what?)
Flex on my ex (yeah)
I don’t got no respect (I don’t, I don’t)
Break up in a text (what?)
Pull up in a G (yeah)
T3 fly off in a jet (vroom!)

Lil Uzi Vert like who the f*** are you? (yeah)
Almost didn’t make it but I made it through (I made it, yeah)
Gettin’ to the money, if you snooze you lose
Woah, you should see the way that they plot on you (what?)
What? Wait, why they plot on me?
‘Cause they really know that ain’t no stopping me
Like, first I hit my dance then they flock to me
Went and did it all night, girl I gotta leave
Yeah, pat your weave down before you see your man
Oh no, now you’re mad, everything gon’ hit the fan
I don’t want that um again, I don’t want want that again
Even though that girl a ten, think we’re better off being friends
Psych! I’ma hit that again (yuh)
I’ma lick that again, I’ma split that again
Now I do what I want, can’t do what I can
Think you’re on, not at all, cause you know I ball (yea, what?)
Boy I heard you soft, I’ma cop it for the cost
Smoke the gas on my cloth

Hold up, hold up, hold up (what?)
Let me catch my breath (yeah)
Let me count these checks (what?)
Flex on my ex (yeah)
I don’t got no respect (I don’t, I don’t)
Break up in a text (what?)
Pull up in a G (yeah)
T3 fly off in a jet (vroom!)
Hold up, hold up, hold up (what?)
Let me catch my breath (yeah)
Let me count these checks (what?)
Flex on my ex (yeah)
I don’t got no respect (I don’t, I don’t)
Break up in a text (what?)
Pull up in a G (yeah)
T3 fly off in a jet (vroom!)