Young Da Gawd - Wassup

I just got a quarter in this bitch
Wassup
Trying to roll a Bob Marley
Fuck a spliff
Wassup
Got a little bad bitch with me
Take a picture
In the kitchen
Like I'm about to whip some grits up
Excuse me
Blessed like I'm sneezing
I chance up 4 time like the seasons
My neck my arms
Straight gleaming
Throwing up everything
Bulimic
Dead broke
Back then I was Dead po
No water no lights no joke
I was fucked up
Yeah I wanted all the smoke
Learn the ropes
Cut it just to cook it
Wassup
Flex the muscle by the chest
Like I'm doing push ups
If you really trying to find me
Fuckin hater look up
Two cups
One lean other one liquor
Hit her no kiss her
She smell like Fiji lick her
Woo Damn
Hundred grand
She going to eat it in the end
Sam I am
Watch me stretch
Rubber band
Poppin Saki
Ice like hockey
Go 0 to 100
Kawasaki
Wrist stocky
All my fish swim Aki
No probablys
Choppers like a run with Harley
Blowing ganji
In the jungle no Jumanji
I just got a quarter in this bitch
Wassup
Trying to roll a Bob Marley
Fuck a spliff
Wassup
Got a little bad bitch with me
Take a picture
In the kitchen
Like I'm about to whip some grits up
Excuse me
Blessed like I'm sneezing
I chance up 4 time like the seasons
My neck my arms
Straight gleaming
Throwing up everything
Bulimic
Cold Medina
Mid compact Nina
I'll squeeze them
Leave them like I don't need them
OD em
That purple haze with Puerto Ricans
Eyes so low you will think a nigga sleeping
Leave them
Leaking
She looking for me like a beacon
Cause I fucked her weave up
Now she look like The Weeknd
Damn
What we doing
What you planned
Cause I'm coming off the bench
Like The 6th Man
And my neck drip drop
So quick man
Wrist man 6 grand
You ain't saying shit man
Sick man and I hold it down
Like quicksand
I caming back for that money
Like the rent man
Wassup
I just got a quarter in this bitch
Wassup
Trying to roll a Bob Marley
Fuck a spliff
Wassup
Got a little bad bitch with me
Take a picture
In the kitchen
Like I'm about to whip some grits up
Excuse me
Blessed like I'm sneezing
I chance up 4 time like the seasons
My neck my arms
Straight gleaming
Throwing up everything
Bulimic

Written by:
Jeffery Owens

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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