Domo Genesis, Tyler, The Creator, Juicy J, Wiz Khalifa - Go (Gas) lyrics

Fuckin' put on a wrong head -
Pair of headphones and shit, uh

Just took ten shots and I ain't pass out
Spent a hundred grand and I ain't cash out
If you smoking OG, bring the grass out
These niggas filled up, bring the gas out
Talkin' bout some shit that
You know you stole
I have my fuckin' way with this game
No remote control
Drinking on some gin cause I like alcohol
How the fuck you sposed to win
You don't know how to ball
Turnt up but still smoking
Tryna drive but my eyes barely open
See the cars, see the watch
See I done moved up
In my condo smoking out watching True Blood
Tryna take Taco to the strip club
Tryna take Tyler to the dealer bruh
(I'm right here guys)
Tryna take Domo to the weed spot
True pothead so I need pot

Go, I'm so fuckin loaded
Pockets and the smoke and all the bitches
Tell em go, faded and I'm floatin
I hope your lungs is open
All the bitches, tell em, go
Now I been around the world before
But I never thought it'd be this way
And I smoked up all this weed before
But I never thought it'd feel this way
And all the bitches be like, "yeah"

Celebration shots got me really faded
Kind of famous
Enough to laugh like I really made it
Drunk enough to stir some controversy
Bitch let's fucking tape it i feel amazing
Making digit's off my fucking cadence
Suck a dick
Hater while I selfie with the Eiffel Tower
Five star general
The Odd Future I'm Eisenhower
Said I couldn't make it
I show you niggas to fight the power
Igniting sour
Watching Chowder in my finest hour
A clearer mix of acid jazz and blue grass
Niggas still stuck in the past
Opening new scabs
Me and Wiz matching bottles nigga
Open two tabs stumbling out with six models
My nigga order two cabs
We ain't worried bout rivals
Them niggas too trash
Fuck what niggas think
I'm the illest one in the new class
And I don't give a fuck
What niggas ain't fuckin' with
OFWG run with the team or suck a dick

Go, I'm so fuckin loaded
Pockets and the smoke and all the bitches
Tell em go, faded and I'm floatin
I hope your lungs is open
All the bitches, tell em, go
Now I been around the world before
But I never thought it'd be this way
And I smoked up all this weed before
But I never thought it'd feel this way
And all the bitches be like, "yeah"

Guitars sound like some Kill Bill shit
Watch it that's that church tambourine shit
My grandma used to play that nigga
Golf Wang

(Turn up) Yessir
I got old money, I got new money
Put 'em together, I got huge money
Bank teller call my phone
She tell me I'm putting on
Twenty years of success
Let's toast to the best
Sip on some ace then I pour out the rest
Fuck bitches, get ends
Drink gin, fuck their friends
Juicy J three hoes in a white on white Benz
I stay sipping codeine
Blue dream I'm rolling up
Looking for a bitch with
Bank statements like Oprah
These black diamonds racist, Louis V no laces
My plug on call coming straight
Up out the basement
All I know is money, it don't look like you
One shot from the chopper make
You look like two
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go