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Get With Me
Chase Fetti
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Uh
Y'all know me
ย
This shit spooky, nigga
Yeah
Cutting the grass in Balenciaga
Showing my ass, niggas getting dollars
You see this vintage Prada?
She give me head so good, this little bitch a scholar
I'm 'bout to slam like Iguodala
Look, I'm tryna send a package from the west
Huh, them birds fly, your bitch addy is the nest
Huh, curbside with that ratty for the wreck
Uh, a bow tie 'cause we added to the neck
Uh, this Patek is a mess, I just keep flossing
Had to wow the ring out, I'm like Steve Austin
I'm just tryna do my thing, niggas keep talking
But we gon' keep balling
Right, like game six, fourth quarter and we hold two
I hit them label meetings thinking, "What would Hov do?"
I get a plug and start thinking, "What would Po do?"
Your new McQueens, they're my old shoes
Twin Ninas, these my Pro Tools
Nigga, let's record or something
Yeah, let's get a brick and go on tour or something
Get a fifty clip and run off through these stores or something
I got a drive-thru if you tryna order something
Uh, and everything is fresh
Big chain, I'm Eric B on the neck
Whip game, they comparing me to a chef
These niggas know that I'm definitely a threat
Uh, over that stove, I get mixy
All my little hitters get busy
I ain't really ever hard to find so
If you got an issue, get with me, nigga
Look, I ain't really never hard to find
But you niggas like Waldo
I been getting raw dough
Trips to DC, riding back with a car load
Ain't had a plug since Chip linked me with Carlos
And that's real, get your cap peeled
Rap bool, but sometimes I wanna sell crack still
Don't know how to act still
Ruger, that's my black steel
Fall off, but end up on my feet like a cat will
Nigga, you ain't that real
They told us that you fraudulent
I get it though, it's always lies told when the God in it
These bitches just want parts of it
I'm always in they grill 'cause they on all of our sausages
Excuse me while I talk my shit
It's Lays if we talking chips
And I mean them big bags
You speeding, we gon' park your whip
We don't do no arguing
Shirt off in the hood, I'm feeling like I'm Spartacus
Everything I do, I put my heart in it
Nigga
Uh, and everything is fresh
Big chain, I'm Eric B on the neck
Whip game, they comparing me to a chef
These niggas know that I'm definitely a threat
Uh, over that stove, I get mixy
All my little hitters get busy
I ain't really ever hard to find so
If you got an issue, get with me, nigga
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