Get Em

(album: Str8 Murkin - 2014)

Only steel, only real
Niggas getting gassed off a Sony deal
I'm like Muhammad Ali, Tyson
Mayweather, Holyfield
Niggas copycats, they copy Drake
They copy Jay-Z and they copy H
These niggas sweet, toffee cakes
Running up the steps again, call it Rocky ape
You say it is what it isn't
They say they did but they didn't
If them niggas slipping, I'mma
Get 'em, get 'em, get 'em, get 'em
Man are left at shitty prisons
Back to money, pussy, women
Get 'em if I catch 'em slipping
Hit 'em, hit 'em, wig 'em, hig 'em hahaha
Where's my gratitude?
I bought this whole ting, why the attitude?
Don't worry 'bout him, man'll cap him soon
And that nigga's bitch, man'll tap it too
Call it Christmas when that cracker booms
Make a big mess, turn him black and blue
I've got that Windchest, let it Shaka Zu
Sip Crevoisier mixed with apple juice
Hold on, steady, manic, ready
I don't [?]
Yes, he says he's heavy but the
Nigga's clearly dead and buried
Get me, man ain't no comedians
Man ain't Chris Rock, man ain't Eddie
Bezzy, nigga's dead and fucking
Buried, buried, buried, hahaha
Niggas gasping
He already know, just ask him
If he switch it, say "I'm just asking"
I'm just kicking back, just laughing
Ackee saltfish with plantain
My Capricorn chick just marched in
My MACcy gon' flip, just passed in
The 'matic on spit, this Dhalsim
Short chick, [?] ting
Paul Smith's, sharp ting
Splashed out, flossing
But her barking
Niggas owe it and they know it
I could eeny miny moe it
Show it, I just sit back, flow it
This is nothing, tic-tac-toe it
Grab that food and eat that knowing
That's that food that he's been growing
That's that shit that keeps it going
Have that, have that, keep that, hahaha