Get It Lyrics – Rick Racks
Singer: Rick Racks
Title: Get It
Always had a dream I would whip that Benz
She know scrubs, I′m not them
Told her come over she came with a friend
b#tch I’m only Nineteen let the story begin
I came with a stick got a glock with a dick, I might f#ck on your sister
Know her boy friend a lick
So she f#cking with me she came home and you kissed her
Put a bag on your head they gon′ get it
I’m in first from the start to the finish
b#tch I feel like I’m Rodman you Pippin
I f#ck on your b#tch in the kitchen I′m whipping
Ducking the jakes I been dodging the system
That b#tch wanna talk but she never gon′ listen
Came through the cut with that mof#ckin Smiffin
I see it I want it you know I’m gon′ get it
Yeah you know Imma get it
Buckle my jacket Alyx Imma click it
Porsche 911 that frog Imma ribbit
You n#gg#s be rapping bout sh#t that I’m living
Pocket fat, Rick Ross
Feel like a dentist the way that I floss
Smell like I′m Hugo, I feel like a boss
Came in with a Hublot you shopping at Ross yeah
Red dot, give a f#ck bout a vest issa head shot
Finna f#ck on your b#tch make her bed rock
These balencis brand new these is dead stock
Yo b#tch call me big papi she see how I’m rocking I ball like the mof#ckin Red Sox
Put them goons on yo #ss and they lookin for cash let of shots
Make the mof#ckin feds hot like yeah
So I′m gon’ bool out
But I got that tool out
b#tch I hop in that Bentley Bentayga just give me the call I’mma zoom out
b#tch you smoking that reggie pack all of the pack over here just be too loud
Feel like Stephen no Curry, I came with a thirty n#gg# it′s a shoot out yeah
Put a bag on your head they gon′ get it
I’m in first from the start to the finish
b#tch I feel like I′m Rodman you Pippin
I f#ck on your b#tch in the kitchen I’m whipping
Ducking the jakes I been dodging the system
That b#tch wanna talk but she never gon′ listen
Came through the cut with that mof#ckin Smiffin
I see it I want it you know I’m gon′ get it
I seen people change
Seen n#gg#s try to slide on me
But it’s like how the f#ck you my brother if you not gon’ ride for me
How the f#ck you smile in my face, then you dick riding me
I look up it feel like my mama only one guiding me
Lil b#tch I′m heartless
See it want it I′mma get it regardless
Pocket rocket I’mma bust at a martian
Painted on her face I feel like an artist
And then I disappear a n#gg# departed
Smoking gelato no cookie, I bet like a bookie, I′m gone off the gas I’m retarded
They don′t know bout that Dolce Gabbana
They don’t know about that Dover Street Market
They don′t know about the pain that we been through
I pop a bean eat it up like a sensu
She a thottie all the n#gg#s she been through
Talking hot, gon’ leave you with a chipped tooth
Yeah, but its all the same to me
Just cause all of the n#gg#s be lame to me
I looked out for these n#gg#s stop blaming me, yea
Put a bag on your head they gon’ get it
I′m in first from the start to the finish
b#tch I feel like I′m Rodman you Pippin
I f#ck on your b#tch in the kitchen I’m whipping
Ducking the jakes I been dodging the system
That b#tch wanna talk but she never gon′ listen
Came through the cut with that mof#ckin Smiffin
I see it I want it you know I’m gon′ get it
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Lyrics Rick Racks – Get It
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