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4 contributions
7 months ago
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German

Lyrics of Go Getta by Young Thug,MPA Wicced,Yung Booke

(Dollars) Yeah
Hold up, Booke, where you at?
I′m in the 'yo, pull up, bro
Hold up, hold up, hold up, where you at?
I′m at the studio, bro, pull up
I let my homies air ya out
Like a car that's been sittin' for seven days
Yeah, and you can split the money seven ways
Or, let them strip you like you work at Blaze, ooh
Ray Bans, dark shades
Yeah, purple syrup, call it pink lemonade
I′m paid and I sip syrup all day
It′s my sport, you should call it Leanoray
Orange and purple, it's wings day
Kush sprayed with finger spray
Nigga, I′m a junky, you niggas minor racks
I'm chasin′ money, I never ran from that
I never ran from jack
If you make me run, shit, I'm back, uhhh
Ear piece is too cold, my neckpiece ridiculous
Ooh, my ring get me barking like it been frost bitten
I be gettin′ bitches while you couch sittin'
You niggas soft as mitten, don't make me pay a visit
See, I be in the kitchen, rappin′ and pitchin′
You know I gotta keep the smell down, vacuum city
You broke like a old elbow, you can't pay attention
See I be in the trenches pay rent and the bitches
Franklin steady knocking and I′m like, "Who is it?"
I let 'em right on in, now, why would I sing them all?
You can ask your girlfriend, this money don′t bend
I got the more hundreds, I ain't got them ones in
Oneway gettin′ in and out this whip, this ain't no photo
And two nines stay with me, Rondo and Romo
Thug, fuck what they talkin' ′bout, holmes got out too quick
Follow my footsteps, better step over all the shit that I kick
Uh, where the Lysol?
Need a kickstand in the booth ′cause I been sippin'
So I might fall (Hold up)
Got my whites on and just sound like a motherfucker (Damn)
Turn the lights off (Yeah)
Boss shit, take a loss get it right back
Yeah, tax write off
Fuck nigga, nah, we don′t like ya'll
Damn, I′m a problem, can't solve me
I′m fly as a bitch no fly me more
Fake barbers tryna condone me
Nah, not happenin'
But we foldin' niggas like napkins
No round of applause, we clappin′
This Flya again what′s crackin' nigga
Yeah, thank you, thank you gentlemen, let me take that
Money is all I think about, I′m in love with that
Hunnids is all I'm bangin′ on, I'm in love with cats
Money is all I′m talkin' now, now, where Franklin at?
I'm bout kick in the prison like take Franklin at
Juney, they say you snitch, nigga, what′s up with that?
You homie, but my crew say you gotta go with that
You pissin′ and shittin' on yourself, nigga, you wrong for that
And yeah, we, we from the sewer, but we don′t fuck with rats
Ayy, and if I ran from you, nigga, I don't fuck with crack
What up, crap?
OG Poppin′, nigga
Ayy, freaky say fuck what they say, that nigga out too quick
And I'm like freaky nigga go ahead with that bullshit
′Cause both, both of ya'll nigga hard
Both of y'all got famous cliques
So let, let′s get that rap money, fuck them bricks
Uh, got stripes every day, it′s zebra day
Uh, and if they play, let ninas spray
I'm chasin′ money, I never ran from that
I never ran from jack
I mean they made me run but I'm back, uhh
Writer(s): Kevin Cossom, Jay W. Jenkins, Allan Wayne Felder, Tanya Dolaine Jones, Norman Ray Harris, Andrew Brett Harr, Robert S. Kelly, Jermaine Jerrel Jackson

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Last edit 7 months ago
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