Wiz Khalifa - Gettin' Up lyrics
Wiz Khalifa [Cameron Jibril Thomaz] Minot, North Dakota/Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Wiz Khalifa - Gettin' Up lyrics]
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
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
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!
Mr look-the-fuck-up, all that
Feelin' real good about life
Got a drink poured, blunt lit let's go
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
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!