Lyrics
Yung Germ
Yeah, I get paid throwing back a hand grenade
Okay
I was on the run, moving packs right on the way, yeah
And just a reminder, hatin' shit won't get you paid, yeah
Y'all **** should focus on getting your fuckin' raise
At McDonald's, bitch
Why the fuck you **** even talk to me?
Okay
Them doggies bark at me, but never bite at me
Okay, okay
I got a Smith-&' for the witness who locked eyes with me (Okay)
Okay
I got the time today, I got the fire on me, yeah
Cruisin' in the whip, I got the stick, I'm booted up
Okay
Hoes up in the house and all they asses tooted up
Huh?
Cruisin' through your block and all I see is fuckin' dust
Huh?
Where do y'all reside? Why ain't y'all outside?
Okay
Get biggy, biggy, biggy, biggy blood bags
Ha-ha
Like really, really, really, really badass
Ha-ha
Get biggy, biggy, biggy, biggy blood bags
Ha-ha
Like really, really, really, really badass
Okay
Yeah, okay, I don't ever miss
Okay
How the fuck a comment make you delete your whole shit? Yeah
Yeah, okay, maybe you a bitch
Okay
How the fuck you let my homie bust your fuckin' lip? Yeah
I thought that y'all **** had the chops
Okay
Why you gettin' beat up and you yellin' fuckin', "Stop", okay
Huh?
I thought that y'all **** had the poles
What?
Why the fuck we smokin' on your homie? Freddy Ghost
Yeah, okay
Cruisin' in the whip, I got the stick, I'm booted up
Okay
Hoes up in the house and all they asses tooted up
Huh?
Cruisin' through your block and all I see is fuckin' dust
Huh?
Where do y'all reside? Why ain't y'all outside?
Okay
Get biggy, biggy, biggy, biggy blood bags
Ha-ha
Like really, really, really, really badass
Ha-ha
Get biggy, biggy, biggy, biggy blood bags
Ha-ha
Like really, really, really, really badass
Okay
Whoa, like I'm really, really badass
Lil Uzi
Bitch, don't look at me if you ain't got a fat ass
Ayy
Yeah, Lil Uzi got a big bag
Yeah
If I pop it, then you'll probably get your stick back
Yeah, whoa, whoa
Bitch, I'm geeked up in some mansion like a kick back
Whoa, whoa, whoa
If I leave my drink down, they gon' try to slip that
Yeah, yeah
Uh, put my .40 on my hip, lap
Ayy
I'm like Manson with this Marilyn, I'm like Nickelback
'Back, yeah
Let me get your pussy, I'ma scratch it
Can't relax, I'm off a batch, you know you cannot match
Geeked up off them Xanny bars and a couple flats
Go on a hit with toolie, Uzis, and a couple MACs
Grr, yeah
Cruisin' in the whip, I got the stick, I'm booted up
Okay
Hoes up in the house and all they asses tooted up
Huh?
Cruisin' through your block and all I see is fuckin' dust
Huh?
Where do y'all reside? Why ain't y'all outside?
Okay
Get biggy, biggy, biggy, biggy blood bags
Ha-ha
Like really, really, really, really badass
Ha-ha
Get biggy, biggy, biggy, biggy blood bags
Ha-ha
Like really, really, really, really badass
Okay
Written by: Jeremy Schafer, Junius Rogers, Symere Woods
