[LYRICS] Polo G Ft Moneybagg Yo – Start Up Again

Polo G’s ‘Start Up Again,’ featuring Moneybagg Yo, has official lyrics available. Polo G dropped ‘Start Up Again’ as the third single from his ‘Hall Of Fame 2.0’ album late last year.

Intro: Polo G
Uh
Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang, gang
I got killers in the motherfucking cut, bitch
Gang
Uh, uh

Verse 1: Polo G
I be with savages, they is not having it
If it’s ever a problem, we tackle it
Switch on the chopper, that bitch get to rattling
Really hate him, gon’ shoot up the candlelit
Lil’ mama thick, but just watch how I handle it
Beat up the pussy, I damage it
Passport stamp, fuck the ref, how I’m traveling
Louis by Virgil, my drip is immaculate, uh
Give me a beat, I’m attacking it, uh
Might catch a B when I’m clapping it
Opps, they some bitches, we beefing with actresses
Post in the trap, we got D in the cabinet, uh
She get on hеr knees when she gagging it
Might cop a ‘Cat ’cause I bеat all them challenges

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Hundred twenty a show, what I’m averaging
On the ropes, I ain’t fold, I wasn’t panicking
Uh, uh, start up again
She over with, now I’m all in her friends
Two hundred shots, they gon’ ball up your mans
Lil Jo keep capping, he nodding off Xans, uh
I’m Euro stepping in France, uh
Drip check, Amiri my pants
Glock a guitar, we gon’ rock out like bands
Spin through they block, he get killed where he stand

Verse 2: Moneybagg Yo
I ran up some change, then bust down a chain (Go)
Benjamin, Grants, my pockets got names (Woah)
The Bentley cocaine, that look like the main
A brick of white Forces, same color them things (Thirty-six)
I just got booked to go somewhere in Spain (Gone)
Fuck a fiancé, I married the game (I do)
It’s really two hundred an occasion, man (Where?)
I’m on the jet eating Raising Cane’s
They tripping, the grass too high, I don’t never be at the house in Memphis (Why?)
I done outgrew the city (Yeah)
Swapped out the digits, these niggas can’t hit me (Nah)
Lil’ box on the back of the Glock, we got switches (Phew)
Awful lot of cough syrup on my dickies (Nope)
I’m so picky when it comes to these bitches (Why?)
Bougie gangster chick tote my blicky (Got wifey with me, ayy)
I got a way with these words, I got a way with these hoes, I keep it too thorough (Raw)
Talking my shit on a whole ‘nother level
I just was over there, I speak for the ghetto
Eight ounces of Wock’ in the Faygo, I’m KO
These niggas fake, put together like Play-Doh (Ha)
Uh, uh, drilling this new ho (Uh)
Ride like a horse, so I pass her to Polo (Here)