What the hell is a yee-haw? (Well)
That's that country shit

Yeah, May, Blu, crazy cat, yeah.
Bob Marley

That's that country shit
Round up, round up, yeah
You know what we came to do
Dance floor bootylicious
Party with May and Blu
Hot tamales we bum rush the parties
In Denali's on Ducatti's in a drop-top Ferrari's

Fingernails, toenails, hair and makeup
Studded up my ear with a pair from Jacob's
New faced, dudes chase, mommie lookin' too laced
Honey's iced feelin' like they killin' with screw face
Me and my crew stay loose off that gray ?
Order bottles of ? with cranberry and grapefruit

Wet the sex kitten
Start chillin' with stars
And fuck the bars
Puffin' cigars

12 in the afternoon
Runnin' kinda late I can't wait for you
Gotta have my nails done and my hair done, too
Just like every other girl plans to do. (Don't you, don't you, don't you know)

If you want to ride it's OK
Keep in mind that I don't have all day
Gotta hurry up before the night slips away
Don't you, don't you, don't you know

Round everybody up
Hit the club and tear it down
If you're up against the wall then you're in the wrong place
Game players not allowed
Everybody up in the crowd (Don't you, don't you, don't you know)
Don't hesitate come follow me now
Let me hear you all say

Oh, oh, oh, oh ,oh round up, round up
Let me hear you all say
Ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Don't you, don't you, don't you know

You see my clique
We be in the party like it's our shit
Can't nobody tell us that we not it
VIP tables, minks and stables, rings in navels.
You know we got that long cash.
Smellin' like money when I walk past
You know I'm in a hurry; talk fast.
Pimps and players, players and pimps
Diamonds and links, buyin' me drinks
Boy you think

You know my sheezy pimpin' ain't easy
You know how many cats want to get with May wheezy
The most glamorous, I'm not your average
So if I holla, holla back youngin' like Fabolous.

We can put our makeup on in the car
So we can dip on this journey of ours
Call my homies just to see where they are
And know that rollin' out (Don't you, don't you, don't you know)
You know so



Hey you!
What you standing on the wall for?
Know you want to get on the floor stop actin' hard-core.
Stand up, yeah
Keep them hands
Get it crunk up in the club like 'uh huh, uh huh, uh-huh'
That's why they boys, they boys they love me, love me
I meet 'em, greet 'em, tease 'em, May wheeze 'em
I got them beggin' for that "oochie wally, wally"
Ooh, she's a hottie, hottie
Don't you, don't you, don't you know

5'6 frame, off the chain
Get in the fast lane
Came to switch up the game (switchin' the game)
Dirty South to NY we be doin' our thing, baby
Goodbye for now (don't you know?)
Till we see you again





What the hell is a yee-haw?
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Round Up Lyrics

Blu Cantrell – Round Up Lyrics

Songwriters: Boyd, Jason P D / Smith, Arthur / Kwame, Holland / Robinson, Rhonda / Ellis, Kevin / Lawrence, Ron
Round Up lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

Lyrics term of use