Injury Reserve, Cakes da Killa, JPEGMAFIA - GTFU lyrics

[Injury Reserve, Cakes da Killa, JPEGMAFIA - GTFU lyrics]

Get the fuck up
(Brrt, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow
Blow) huh (Nigga)
Get the fuck up
(Wow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow
Blow) uh, fuck boy, get the fuck up
Get up off yo' ass, nigga
(Blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow)
Ahh, damn, get the fuck up
(Blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow)

Disenfranchised, screamin' yup in
My white tee
Me not gettin' to the money, unlikely
Somethin' cocky
The stiffest dicks couldn't top me
Fuck that cute shit
All the subbin' don't excite me
Rather get my nails done
Sip on somethin' icy
Catch me out in Sydney, sippin' on a iced tea
Always on the hustle
Ain't no time for the link up
Readjust my rhythm so these
Listeners can keep up how I give you clout
You turn around and try to son me
Bitch, I made a way for you
Faggots to get your money
Minked in the winter
Mesh crop when it's sunny
Can't afford to act funny when
You gettin' to the money
Gettin' too close, please, don't touch
I ain't say "Simon says, " nigga, please
Back up (Back up)
Passport stuntin', you MTA bummin'
Don't address the fuckin' judge unless I
Hit you with a summons

Check it, yo, what's up, nigga?
Simon says door's open, donut the truck
Nigga tuck in your chain
Throw 'bows in the function
If a nigga ain't like it, tell him, "Back up
Nigga" yuh, get back, nigga
I ain't really fuckin' with none
Of these rap niggas
We be bumpin' yo' shit, sittin'
Just fact-checkin'
We be bumpin' yo' shit, sittin just laugh
Nigga i don't wanna be that nigga
Shit, I ain't gonna be that nigga
Shit changed, they don't wanna see that nigga
You like Stacey Dash on BET, my nigga
If you pray, can you pray for these niggas?
And if you don't
Can you pour one out for these niggas?
Simon says, "Get your own sound, lil' nigga"
All these cover bands lookin' like clowns
Lil' nigga

Everywhere we go
I ain't trippin', I ain't playin' with y'all
I ain't trippin'
I ain't playin' with y'all niggas
I ain't sittin', I ain't politicin'
Hatin' on y'all
I ain't really go on wait on y'all niggas
Y'all be rippin'
Ain't no real innovatin' involved
I ain't, I ain't hatin' on y'all
Just had to tell you niggas 'bout it

Some of y'all take off fast
But forget distance
This a marathon, not a sprint
There's a big difference
Way too quick to react, save that for Quint
Got the game upset like the '04 Pistons
Fuck it, mask on, I'm so ready to rip 'em
I ain't pourin' out shit
But I will take a shot for 'em
Shit, your mans talkin' bad like
This is not for him
Tell that shit to your mans then, not forums
I ain't got to say we hot, let the fans do it
Try to pass on us, you shoulda ran, stupid
Malcolm Butler on that ass
Interceptin' trash i told y'all
A box in the sand won't ever last
No, for real, no, for real
I really, I really tried to
Tell these niggas too, that's what's funny
Malcolm Butler on that ass
Interceptin' trash i told y'all
A box in the sand won't ever last
(yeah, all these) get the– get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck– get the fuck up
Get the fuck– get the fuck up
Get the fuck– get the fuck– get the fuck up
Get the fuck up
Get the fuck– get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the– get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up
Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

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