Got It

(альбом: This Ain't No Mixtape - 2009)

They look up to the...
Fuck boys wonderin...
Bitches know the planes got it
Bitches know the planes got it

[Verse 1:]
Incinerate the streets
The moment that my size 7 Bapes graze concrete
Every step I take bring me closer to the roaster in the villa
Wakin up to chilled mimosas
I do it how a real nigga supposed to
I obligated myself in '02
When I seen Soulja Slim bring that lac truck through
I'm the truth these niggas is daffy
Duck ass niggas keep quackin
But I can't hear ya I got a sound proof cabin
Roll down my window just to pitch out yo wack ass album
I got you hot on the street... literally
I'm like yo promo team my lolo green
10 switches in the button for james bond smoke screen
I'm a hard act to follow
Niggas need luck better rub that log at the apollo

Bitches know the planes got it
Bitches know the planes got it
And you can't do a thang about it
Bitches know the planes go it
Bitches know the planes go it
And that ain't gone change I'm sorry

[Verse 2:]
I'm so sick with it one listen
Might have niggas coughing n sniffling
My pockets is fatter than peter griffin
Green in em like my rollin papers
Had a couple niggas round me that I know was haters
Gave em enough rope to hang themselves that's how I played em
Broke they own necks you see they body swayin
From the ceilings n they mental prisons
Closed minds wasn't open to the fly living
Soon they understand that they never stand over my niggas
Tabulate the statistics
Congratulate the victors
We leave lames as air strike victims
I'm on my shit
These karate carbon copy jockin my kicks
I'm at work in my play clothes
Louis luggage on the racks of the range rove
Murder on the beat cased closed