Who Sang U.P.T.? Juvenile feat. Hot Boy$ & Big Tymers

Big Tymers 400 Degreez cover art
Release information
Release Date: 1998-11-3
Genre: Hip Hop
Style: Thug Rap
length: 4:18
Cash Money slangin nine *****
(Off top playboy)
H.B's and The B.G.'s
(What's happing little B.G. bring it to these *****s)

When I got that iron in my hand I'm goin' to slang it
When I got that drama on my mind I'm goin' to bring it
I ain't backin' down from no ***** that's nathan'
If the ***** say I ain't bout my business look here he hatin'

Coming uptown playboy we gonna slang it
If I catch down ***** bad we gonna leave ya stankin'
****ing wit my H.B's ***** I'm gonna bring it
Rollin' uptown stay strap and keep thinkin'

Cause a ***** get stolen
Better yet get takin'
Paper is burn
They come fast, ya can't shake it
Picture this my brother Cash Money done went nation
That come's from seven hard years of dedication

****in' with B.G. *****
I'm puttin' on your face and I'm a kill me a *****
That's believin' worth six figures we call hard hitters
We uptown riders and we real with this *****, *****

Police can investigate but they ain't gonna find ****
But a hundred bullet shells without a ****ing fingerprint
This Hot Boy click laid back and spy on *****s
We see them workin' on somethin' look here we riders
Ain't like workin' *****s
Any block with a flussy
That goes for the boss too
We ain't got no picks to choose it
We get cha if we gotta
Wig split cha if we gotta
I know you ain't got word that B.G.'s a rider
So keep it on the D.L
If you got keys don't serve nobody but off V.L
Cause they play for keeps
A one way ticket to hizell
Six feet deep
It's a filthy dirty rizell
On the U.P.T
I was raised in the streets
But I put it on my mind
By the time I was nine
Look here ***** I was slangin' that nine

Now them them don't want us
They know me and Turk don't fuss in the corners
They already know that we brothers, Blood
Or whatever you wanna call it
Click up wit my dog we get crazy like alcoholics
Plus we ballers
So whatever we spin the Lex or Benz
Its gonna be on twenny, twen, twens

Get off the block when we come ***** (*****)
To the lane
Shots that close shop when the bullets start spraying
Run your mouth too much, better watch what cha sayin'
Like a ***** on the sideline, ***** we ain't playin'

Na, Na, Na, Na
Now why O why Lord
The ***** wanna try and die Lord

*****s wanna learn hard way
Give it to 'em like that
Make 'em suffer
Put that ***** wit a bag

I guess you probably standin' there sayin, "Who's the mutha****a?"
***** Juv's the mutha****a, that'll bruise a mutha****a
Either there's been a lot of cross-firin' in the bricks
And I'm gonna kill me a *****
If they put me in that ****
Look I'm gonna tell ya like I tell my folks
Play with me if you want but Cash Money goin' broke
Even if it means creepin' up slow
Bustin' out shots out my black Volvo
Fo sho, cause ain't nobody gonna run me
I don't want nobody going to tell my mama when somebody done me
She ain't bring me in the world for that
She ain't raise no ho's
She could have had a girl for that
I been realized, I'm all in
Surrounded by the camouflage, in ballin'
Make a ***** recognize, I'm starvin'
Go in and do a homicide, you fallin', stop callin'
Cause ain't no peace treaties whodie
You better not leave that forty-five at your house cause you gonna need it whodie
I told you boy, I'm a soljah boy
U.T.P up on my stomach from the 'Nolia boy

Slangin' nine
Fo sho *****
That's how we layin' it down for the ninety-eight
All the way to the ninety-nine
Slangin' nine
All you bus pass *****s better recognize

This on here bouncin' all out ya heard me
Ask my ***** Prime *****
Ask my ***** Lac *****
Ask my ***** B Dog *****
Ask Manny
Ask Ruckus
Ask my brother Corey
Ask B.Geezy *****
Ask Suga Slimm

You ain't got no mutha****in' heart
Got the butcha knife chillin'
Slicing throats we doin it like that *****
Ah ha, Ah ha
How you love that now *****?
What's up now *****?
Talk that **** now
What, What's up
I thought we was what kind of boys
***** what, ***** who what, ***** ha

I know yall gonna hear me all over the nation
So this is for the East Coast, the South Coast, the West Coast
Over the world
***** ain't no beef *****
It's bout money
***** if you ain't making no money I can't talk

Shut the **** up
***** ain't got no words for ya
It's all about the fetti

CD 1
  • 1 Intro
  • 2 Ha
  • 3 Gone Ride With Me
  • 4 Flossin Season
  • 5 Ghetto Children
  • 6 Cash Money Concert
  • 7 Welcome 2 tha Nolia
  • 8 U.P.T.
  • 9 Run for It
  • 10 Rich Niggaz
  • 11 Back That Azz Up
  • 12 Off Top
  • 13 After Cash Money Concert
  • 14 400 Degreez
  • 15 Juvenile on Fire
  • 16 Solja Rag