get.it

Uh, bitch, where your clothes?
 Why they ain't on the floor?
 Player, where is your money?
 How you get in the door?
 Colored lights like a disco
 Downin' shots like a missile
 Put a stamp on that ass
 Now that ass is official
 Who gettin' sick from the thizzin'?
 Who got grease in they kitchen?
 Who got dollars for pussy?
 Who the fuck is you kiddin'?
 Who got kids at home?
 Don't say nothin'
 Take your shirt off, show 'em somethin'
 Woah, hold up
 Swag, swag, swag, throw up
 Yeah, you got the club smellin' like ass
 Last ass's still standin', gon' get it some cash
 So get it, get it, get it, get it, get it
 Yeah
 Niggas out in line like there's nothin' else to do
 But it's nothin' else to do with a line full of niggas
 Aimin' at the bar, like you waitin' for a shot
 'Til somebody pull the trigger, now everybody dippin', ah
 Get them flippin' out the door, whip it work, India' Jones
 Raid this bitch, indeed it though
 Fuck the world 'til tomorrow come
 It's more abundant be alone
 Pour a blunt and drink the smoke
 For the sun up, re-up more
 The more you plan to be afloat
 Everybody goin' like, "Gotta get it, get it gone"
 Get it 'til that shit is gone
 Get it 'til them bitches, bitches, bitches, bitches, bitches know
 Set the record set in stone
 Set in metal, cell a' phone
 Niggas reppin', reppin', more
 Reppin' more, now get it, get it, get it, ah
 Yeah
 Light that propane and sizzle
 Play that dope game a fiddle
 Yo' aim is set, how you mobbin'
 Workin' at night like you Kimmel
 Hipsters sip that kombucha while my pimp juice is organic
 I slang that shit out the sliver of my pants zipper, god damn it
 Where the fuck my hoes at?
 Where the fuck my robe at?
 I am that trappin' Hefner
 Spillin' Remy on my throwback
 Three bitches in my Nova comatose, they robo rockin'
 One of them naked, playin' with pussy while holdin' my Johnson
 Yup, yup, now put your mouth down on it
 And get it, get it, get it
 Take a breath and lick it
 Get it, get it, like you're protein deficient
 I want to Instagram this and have 20 people like it
 And thumbs up to the camera so these hoes know they're invited
 Uh, cocaine up to the ceilin'
 Fiends is snortin' the roof
 Stroll in front of the club
 Daddy buyin' some shoes
 Bouncer brawlin' and beatin' them eggheads down to the yolk
 Collared shirts in a line, fuck that line, it's a joke
 A-ha-ha-ha-ha, punch lines
 Get it? Punch lines
 Get it, get it, get that rum punch
 Laughin' at a motherfucker's lost lunch
 Throwin' bowls, swellin' eyes, gettin' baked, sellin' pies
 Flippin' birds, countin' money, snort it 'til they nose is runny
 Blood is trippin'
 This blood is crippin'
 Leave this blood crippled
 Then e'rybody dippin'
 Get it, get it, get it, get it
 Woah