Gettin' Up

[Intro] Yeah It's Young Khalifa Mr. Look-the-fuck-up, all that Feelin' real good about life Got a drink poured, blunt lit Let's go [Verse] Excuse me My jeans Levi, my shoes is Gucci Hoes like "Who he?" On a paper chase, don't waste my loose leaf A nigga paying bills, lighting L's on the beach But I still move with the goons on a loose leash Some call it weird, hoes call it unique Swag like I just stepped out a boutique And I spit like I got a mouth full of loose teeth Closet full of new sneaks that I'll probably never wear I'm in that President Suite, bad bitch And if them niggas ain't me, average I treat a beat like canvas Bob Ross on a song, paint it perfect Ever run out of weed, I'll throw a purp fit I keep the army at ease 'cause y'all ain't worth it Been considered hipster 'cause my shirts fit The way your bitch hit my chirp make a hip hurt Young nigga ridin' that wave, picture me surfin' OT, probably see me in your circuit Same niggas hate, the same ones on my first shit Now that's irony Hoes wanna frequent me, flow wrinkle free, no iron needed I'm on a level y'all dyin' to be at Or somewhere you gotta fly to be at You know Leto's home So we spendin' up the grands on the sand gettin' blowed Four or five freaks at least, new in my phone Give you my address, GPS to my home I party like I own stocks Smoke blunts with CEO's who own their own yachts Chillin' with bad hoes who pour their own shots And pop pills, while I approve million dollar deals Niggas in a frenzy, city cops on my heels But I'm too rich to give a fuck Besides hate, the money gettin' up The money, the money, the money gettin' up The money gettin' up, the money gettin' up The money, the money, the money gettin' uuuppp The money gettin' up (tahahahaa) The money gettin' up [Outro] Yeah bitch! Taylor Gang or kill yourself man Look in the mirror, shoot the first thing you see Yeah, that's not me, that's you Bitch!