Testo Get It - Tity Boi
Testo della canzone Get It (Tity Boi), tratta dall'album Trap-A-Velli
Mero radio
Tity Boi, we got to make 'em understand this, nigga
We got to make them understand that this is the movement
This is the motherfucking street movement
Tity Boi, let's go, let's go, let's go
You talking to me?
You gotta go out there and pick it, hey
I'ma gon' get it
I say if it's out there somewhere, anywhere I'ma get it
Leggo, if it's out there then I'm gon' get it
I said if it's out there, then I'm gon' get it, get it, get it, get it (hey, hey, hey, hey)
Yeah, I spent five thousand dollars on tattoos
I'm a street nigga dog ain't like you
When I meet a bitch I might curse her out
So we the ones that got the gangsters pulling purses out
Acts ludicrous ain't just word of mouth
My guy want to be cleanest whips in the dirty south
I know you heard about me I'm the tall one
I asked the girls are you up for a mall run
We hit the mall, leave the shelves when it's empty
Shop off the racks to the racks look again
If it's not out there then forget it but if it's out there
I'ma get it
If it's out there then I'm gon' get it (if it's out there)
If it's out there then I'm gon' get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get it (oh, I'ma get it)
Okay, you know my lifestyle just like a motion picture
Drinking on liquor, smoking on swishers
I am so fresh you should take a picture
She said you should take me with you
Niggas talking rich bitch but I'm talking richer
Too much money in my bag I broke my zipper
Nigga I get with you, run up on your pad like
I got everything that you had
You feel me?
If it's out there then I'm gon' get it (if it's out there)
If it's out there then I'm gon' get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get it (oh, I'ma get it)
Fuck a recession, we stuck in depression by enemies
We're getting it, and we gon' keep flipping it
If she keep giving it, I'ma keep sticking it
Boyfriend tripping with pissed off shit I hit him with
We gon' stay dipping in, we fresh out the lot
Hopping out that bitch like, look what I got
Gonna be a cold winter, bundled up, nigga
For a cold spitter, I'm hiding, y'all not
Pocket full of nuts, fresh new words
Keep that too cocked and you're not too pop
Popping in your raps might get you shot
Go right ahead and name us, it's a sign you're making fame
Credits
Writer(s): Robert Magee, Inconnu Compositeur Auteur
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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