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g.y.l.o. - goldlink lyrics

[intro]
get your freak on, (3x)
yeah yeah yeah oh yeah yeah

[verse 1]
what the f-ck you a snitch, f-ck with me read the l!ck
gorgeous body with a pretty -ss face
i don’t give a f-ck b-tch i’ll be hittin’ anyway
get the bag, get the work, squirt the gat, no lackin’ bruh
rich rap n-gga really want to start a problem
p-ssed off a n-gga wanna solve him
pow pow roll n-gga i’m ballin’
b-tch -ss n-ggas i don’t like when you be ballin
cause i’m a real n-gga and we never been to college
real n-ggas stay up in the gutter where we came from
teachin’ them little mother f-ckers how we came up, stayed up
gotta a little rich, got a b-tch and then we made love
these wack n-ggas, trill n-ggas, on the rise
new b-tch saw me then she spazzed, told her calm down
thats your n-gga well your my b-tch
bust down on the couch bust that b-tch
f-ck that f-ck that, f-ck that
hallelujah to my n-ggas who made it all alone now
aiming when we shootin’ and we shootin’ a few rounds
and we stay low, keep em goin’ for a few rounds
get our money up and never say a word
smoke that sh-t and collect them birds

[hook]
i peaked my cellular i see your chick she callin’ me
i skrt in benzs windows tinted, she wanna swallow me
if you a basic b-tch, then girl don’t even bother me
b-tch i’m grown b-tch i’m grown, 20 years hit the floor
throw that -ss for manager, throw that -ss for my d.j
new b-tches in my p-ssenger, west side my neighborhood
b-tch i’m grown b-tch i’m grown, 20 years hit the floor
b-tch i’m grown b-tch i’m grown, 20 years hit the floor

[verse 2]
b-tch n-ggas be lying, dying for nickle bags
and b-tches still be callin’ me ugly and say they wouldn’t f-ck me
still got that flare i got that juice
when i first pull that trigger
real magic sticker no fifty but bet that nine hit cha
i call my homie like “homie” (“what up?”)
“i need a couple grams, so i can be the man solely” (“i gotcha”)
see i ain’t into pictures, i ain’t into f-cking hoes, (not really)
see i am just into women stripping, taking off their clothes
i suppose i’ll speed it up, and still i beat it up
p-ssy the tree for us i’ll beat it up
d-wade three way act, bill withers lean on us
i clean sh-t up, b-tch you on my bus, b-tch you on my bus
you get this work, flip that work for dirt, you know whats’s up

[hook]

[outro]
“oh my f-cking god royal, we did it, we f-cking did it.”

- goldlink lyrics

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