letra de what'cha get - a-game
intro]
get up, get up, get up
warning: the performance of this song may be an automatic incitement to turn up and get violent. a-game, putter, and traplifemuzik are not responsible for any fights or riots that may happen. but if a trick think he sl!ck and trying to flap lips? he really needs his -ss kicked. so bump this sh-t and let that p-ssy have it!
[hook] (putter)
get up, b-tch you couldn’t handle what you started when you were
talkin’ sh-t, i guess i hit’em kind of hard but that’s just
what’cha get when you f-ckin’ with the cl!ck
black eye, split lip, b-tch, that’s just what’cha get, b-tch! (x2)
[verse 1] (a-game)
i’m rowdy, wild, and i’m angry catch me ridin’ round on my side of town
i’m like a gun that’s off safety with a loose trigger i’m aiming
if you talkin’ sh-t? then shut ya lips, we generals, brigadier
i know some people, who know some people, who know some people to make you disappear
it’s a-game and putter, we snappin call it celery
they wanna fight? but they out their mind, cause we might just catch some felonies
i’ll lay you down without weaponry, best suggestion get to steppin, g
i’ll take you out without questioning if you really wanna f-ckin mess with me (no questioning)
been a minute since i throwed down, i’m a can of raid; i’ll eliminate you hoes round
givin’ em the fade, i ain’t talkin’ bout a smoke cloud, hit ’em in the brain, and now everything is slowed down
bringin’ y’all the pain if you really wanna go now, i am so insane so there’s plenty more to go round
hit ’em in the face, till he’s kind of lookin’ dozed out, they thinkin’ that we play? well i’m guessin’ that they know now
[hook] (putter)
get up, b-tch you couldn’t handle what you started when you were
talkin’ sh-t, i guess i hit’em kind of hard but that’s just
what’cha get when you f-ckin’ with the cl!ck
black eye, split lip, b-tch, that’s just what’cha get, b-tch! (x2)
[verse 2] (putter)
growin’ up, i never thought i’d be this turned up
i never thought i’d smoke, but look at all this tree i burn up
i’m learnin’ to stay out of trouble, but i won’t let a b-tch step in my bubble
i’m stoned, call me barney rubble, i call the shots my crew in a huddle
i won’t ever fumble not with the money in the club throwing ones at playboy bunnies
they sayin’ “feed me” while they rub their tummy i’m rubbin’ the p-ssy, the bouncer must be a dummy
i’m turnt up don’t fight me, your victory’s unlikely
get chinchecked like nike, get right b-tch i’ll strike like lightning
kaboom! make room for the crew! so i think you better move, flow sick like the flu
you might get an att-tude, but you don’t wanna get into it – i’m winnin’ you’re losin’ confusin’ the clueless
i’m pushin’ my limits, you might get offended, but that’s cause you’re jealous all this kush i’m inhalin’
got me feelin’ amazing if you blow my high? i’ll reply just….like….this….
[hook] (putter)
get up, b-tch you couldn’t handle what you started when you were
talkin’ sh-t, i guess i hit’em kind of hard but that’s just
what’cha get when you f-ckin’ with the cl!ck
black eye, split lip, b-tch, that’s just what’cha get, b-tch! (x3)
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