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getting paid - tmoe tha great & gflee the god lyrics

chorus:
i’m gettin racks
i run up 50 uh stack
i tote uh gat
bust it at en nigga back
i race the jag on freeways
gettin paid
ima get paid
money comin feelin like uh bank
gotta get it
ima get paid

verse 1: (tmoe)

girl what’s in the cup

baby you fucking or what

if not here’s a card so go catch you a bus

she tripping and b-tching i don’t give a fuck

i’m drinking that jungle and flee off the purp

the c-ke is to strong it’s burning there nose

she slip in depression and that molly’s her hero

i’m wanting some food so i get us some gyros

y’all niggas to stressed

give me like 40 a press

you b-tches be stretching y’all necks

looking for money and shit

my fourty go dumb like terex

then studder like stanley again

y’all b-tches are hard to impressed

fuck im a pimp in distress

i’m tripping on my money again

and on wensday i’m aiming at hips

don’t even try me

y’all niggas are dirty and grimy

be snitching on homies so move get away from me

im snatching y’all wigs you and your niggas are pussys

niggas be talking but never wanna come fight me

scope they -ss like i’m finna go hunting

then stunt while im counting my benjies

then i go cope me some henni

please don’t try it

pussy boy don’t try it

all my niggas they some goblins

you go missing they can’t find him

love a girl who’s everybody

and while you missing she still party

ima cop a moseriti

i’m going shopping with your barbi

verse: 2. ( gflee )
look at my fit
feel like a couple of racks
aye
i spent uh couple of stacks
aye
gucci be all on my back
aye
i gotta uh couple of gats
know that i don’t neva lack
b-tches be all on my -ss
tell em they gotta get back
tmoe be wit me he holdin that 40 been packin’ since he was uh shordie
they sayin they hate me but don’t even know me i swear that these niggas is fony
liko a savage they get to tha cappin then fonem gone get to tha clappin
cop yu uh package
fonem be lettin it go fo tha low he could meet chu in traffic
we is not not average
team full of shooters no wonder we hoopin a lot
shoot at the ops
swerv off in traffic no time for the games got tha heat inna box
ready or not
dripping in fashion my niggas gone have it
drinking uh habit
she throw that pussy i’m smashing
niggas is really some actors
swear that them niggas be cappin
aye
and i’m just gone get to the money
count up these fifty’s and hunnids
know how b-mmin
i mix that shit wit perky
cop me some yerkeys
she on my d-ck like it’s jerky
ball like gmello we miss yu
she eat me up wit utensils
hollow tips steady gone eat thru his grissel

- tmoe tha great gflee the god lyrics

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