YF Mias - GTF

Get the fuck up out the house Get the fuck up out the couch
Say you rapping You not rapping You just make words with ya mouth
If you heard sum shit bout me That shit ain't true Just word to mouth
Brodie got like 20 hoes If you come thru can Pick Em out
But
I gotta whole lotta that (Yeah)
He pay the 2 for the neck (Yeah)
All of my brothers be balling We count up the money Come look at the check-in
Most of these nigga be bitches But i can admit that I used to be cap (Yeah)
Told me that he was a killer I threw em a price Just to make em a snack (Yeah)
If you ever seen my sister Than I know you like my brother
If you ever talked to Hustla Than you really is my brother
Ain't got time to chase no rat I want my cheese So ima hustle
Most these niggas like to shoot That mean it's smart to not even tussle
I went broke But now I'm back It took some time But it was nothing
Have you ever had to go drop off a pack And you the muscle
Retro 3 that be the shoe I like to wear but 4 the other
Told that bitch don't call my phone I'm in here touching on my other
Get the fuck up out the house Get the fuck up out the couch
Say you rapping You not rapping You just make words with ya mouth
If you heard sum shit bout me That shit ain't true Just word to mouth
Brodie got like 20 hoes If you come thru can Pick Em out
All the shit I say be facts Just face the facts I make it easy
How that boy become a rapper Used to hoop and be on TV
You can't see me that's ya fault You ain't got up You just like Stevie
Told my bitch to buy me this I got some cash But she so easy
She got mad I got caught up She in my phone saying she don't need me
Go head leave I got these hoes that wanna fuck
But I'm not easy
Multiply that paper bag Cop for the 10 Then make it 20
Nowadays I like to spend more than the average All the pennies
Make it back in like a day So Never worried bout you know
Fuck a hook and fuck a verse
Can you make a 3 a 10
Can you make a 4 a 20
If you can't you ain't my friend
Know it's all about the paper
Just make sure don't see a drought
Love attention I hate clout
Bronem smacked em in his mouth
You think just cause you got this and you got that You'll make it out
Most these niggas that be trapping for so long Can't make it out
Locked myself inside the room Throw way the key I'm zoning out
I just made like 3-4 songs And that shit hot Can't even drop it
Why you worried bout my size of shoe That shit don't make a profit
Fuck a nigga fuck a hater
Why they worried bout my pockets
That bitch thick She gotta face
I told that hoe pop lock and drop it (Bitch)

Written by:
DeMias Munsey

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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