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letra de get it litty - ebk young joc

get it litty lyrics
[verse]
it get litty, it’s a party every time my n-ggas show up (and that’s for sho’)
boy, don’t die in this b-tch, watch what you throw up (watch what you throw up)
sick my purple rains got a stain from this soc
mix it up a little, couple drops, and it’s yola (yeah)
think he f-ckin’ with me, cuddy off some coca-cola (off that sh-t)
bullets flyin’ when we bouncin’ out this ‘yota (pow, pow, pow, pow)
i ain’t a p, she ran a fee, i guess i’m chosen (ayy, run it in)
i 2-0 in these streets, boy, i’m golden
ayy, pshh, real dope fiends (for sho’)
certified street n-gga, shoot and drop the whole thing (fa, fa, fa, fa)
i ain’t picking up today, let my phone ring (ayy, let it ring)
f-ck a half, blood, you know i copped the whole thing (ayy)
send her to the store and beat her ass, she copped thе wrong thing (b-tch)
she said that she leaving, told hеr, “bye”, let the hoe leave (bye)
this a vlone shirt, plain, but a long-sleeve
finna take a trip, do something different down in long beach (hold on)
and i ain’t talkin’ bout no vacation
if you gon’ do the move, then do it now, blood, i hate waitin’
hotboii, sittin’ in this room got him fake bakin’ (hot! hot!)
juke move on a fufu, get to shake, shakin’ (ah, ah)
my d-ck in her belly, she tryna run, no she can’t take it (ayy)
them n-ggas die on that side, they just can’t face it
bro got a ‘cat, i got a ‘hawk, but we ain’t racin’ (skrrt)
n-gga, i don’t f-ckin’ cap
i just sh-t talk on these beats, i don’t mumble rap (ayy)
b-tch sparked up a seed in her ‘wood, what the f-ck is that? (ayy, what the f-ck)
blood doin’ a hunnid, almost lost him, but he brung it back (skrrt)
f-ck a stock clip, cuddy, my glock got a drum attached
my doobie in the ashtray, so don’t touch it, i ain’t done with that (ayy, don’t touch it)
i’m finna roll it up, and smoke a copper (copper)
bippin’ whips, got no cuts, blood i do it proper (proper)
don’t get smoked tryna fight, i ain’t no boxer i ain’t no boxer (i ain’t no boxer)
she doin’ splits in this b-tch, i’m finna knock her
come see how we kick it, sh-t, i ain’t talkin’ bout soccer
this b-tch talk the most sh-t, but she can’t show a dollar (can’t show a dollar)
i’m finna roast your dusty ass, i got the hollas
it’s nothin’ but gangsters and p’s in here poppin collars (poppin’ collars)
i’m a beast n-gga, street n-gga with some knowledge (with some knowledge)
but, sh-t, i ain’t go to college (nah)
i start playin’ with guns, go for nun, we was robbin’
this ain’t nef the pharoah, but my n-ggas big tymin’ (big tymin’)
i’m tryna cop a rollie with the big diamonds (big diamonds)
if i say i’m comin’, n-gga, whole clique slidin’ (whole clique slidin’)
tryna ride the wave, boy, you n-ggas d-ck ridin’ (d-ck ridin’)
i don’t say slatt, b-tch, my n-ggas big slimin’
(leek, this muhf-cka so sleezy)

- ebk young joc

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