Go Gettas

[Intro: Wais P]

Ground Creepers (Let's creep!)

Yeah, son of a!

Come on! (Keep keeping on)

[Verse 1: Wais P]

Frozen face, look at my wrist, where the magic at?

Pimp's spots just fucked up, it's where the ratchets at

On the track is where it happened at, the Blade

Bitches serenade my escapades outta Escalades

Denalis and Range Rover, Highbridge

My chain swinging in the hood, that bitch nigga got the hot heads

Look at my iris, pupils bloodshot like a drunken Iris

So fly, I'm doing shots with the pilot

Thirty thousand feet reading 'bout the SkyMall

But all I want is the Asian flight attendant on my balls

Kaleidoscope diamonds, rollercoaster whips

Soon as you hit the bar, I'm at your table toasting with your bitch

Shoulda bought a bottle, just take a loss

Come around me with a hot head, I turn it into hot sauce

Blow your brains out your skull nigga, memory loss

Wais P the fucking pimp, truly yours

[Chorus: Wais P]

Bandana over the money stack

Bitch get my paper, come and run it back (Run it back)

Look at little shorty with the hundred pack (What)

He got dreams of sipping lean in a Cadillac

I had to tell him, living life as a felon

Ain't all that it seemed to be, it's even better

Pendants on your chain, diamonds in your favorite letters (What)

Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta, argh (Keep keepin on)

[Verse 2: Sean Price]

Grit, grimy tooth and nail

Serve me, play the ukelele while I'm doing rails

Bowl of escargot, oh I'm doing snails

Used to sell crack, now I'm rapping, I'm doing well

Hm, the best rapper out now

Neck snappers get clapped and shout like Al

P, I'm not your motherfucking friend fam

Fuck the kee-kee, bo-bo and the flim flam

I'm hot, creepers creep, the .4-4, I been bad

Let's get physical, pull the pistol from my gym bag

Haha, you deserve to have felons

Carve up your face, straight Ferdinand Magellan

Tuh, this that GMR shit

Breathe these bars, you need CPR bitch

The go-getta Sean

Niggas know better, same low sweater on, P!

[Chorus: Wais P]

Bandana over the money stack

Bitch get my paper, come and run it back (Run it back)

Look at little shorty with the hundred pack (What)

He got dreams of sipping lean in a Cadillac

I had to tell him, living life as a felon

Ain't all that it seemed to be, it's even better

Pendants on your chain, diamonds in your favorite letters (What)

Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta, argh (Keep keepin on)

[Verse 3: Tek]

Uh, sing your songs of survival

I tower over peons like the Eiffel

Trifle, niggas, I make 'em starve

Your fur's too short to cop from the god (Keepin on)

No consignment, all C-O-D

The price is the price, that's my T-A-G

It gets better, if you cop heavy

My OGs been slinging dope since Rocksteady

Uh, I got the glow of the golden child

Seasick, Queens nigga, should have been the poster child

Get caught up in my current, y'all niggas ain't swimmers

It's a major difference between me and beginners

Competitive 6 thrower, the G-spots know me

Your MCM call me big homie

Fifteen hundred for the Gucci attire

If the bag is right, I'll make your hot shit fire (Smoke)

[Chorus: Wais P]

Bandana over the money stack

Bitch get my paper, come and run it back (Run it back)

Look at little shorty with the hundred pack (What)

He got dreams of sipping lean in a Cadillac

I had to tell him, living life as a felon

Ain't all that it seemed to be, it's even better

Pendants on your chain, diamonds in your favorite letters (What)

Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta, argh (Keep keepin on)