Gettin' Up

[Intro] Yeah, It's Young Khalifa Mr. Look the fuck up All that Feelin' real good about life Gotta drink poured, blunt lit Let's go [Verse] Excuse me, my jeans Levi My shoes is Gucci, hoes like who he? On a paper chase, don't waste my loose leaf A nigga payin' bills, lightin' L's on the beach But I still move the goons on a loose leash Some call it weird hoes call it unique Swag like I just stepped outta boutique And I spit like a gotta mouth fulla loose teeth Closet full of new sneaks that I probably never wear I'm in that president suite, bad bitch And if them niggas ain't me, average I treat a beat like canvas Bob Ross on a song, Paint it perfect Ever run outta weed I throw a purp fit I keep the army at ease cause ya'll ain't worth it Been considered a hipster cause my shirts fit The way your bitch hit my chirp, make her hip hurt Young nigga ridin' that wave, Picture me surfin'! OT probably see me in your circuit Same niggas hate, the same ones on my first shit Now that's irony Hoes wanna frequent me flow wrinkle free No Iron needed I'm on a level y'all dyin' to be at Or somewhere you gotta fly to be at You know Leto's home So we spendin' up the grands on the sand gettin' blow Four or five freaks at least new in my phone Give you my adress, GPS to my home (Yeah) I party like I own Stocks Smoke blunts with CEO's who own they own yatchts Chillin' with bad hoes who pour they own shots, and pop pills While I approve million dollar deals Niggas in a frenzy, city cops on my heels But I'm too rich to give a fuck Besides hate the money Gettin' Up The money, the money, the money Gettin' Up The money Gettin Up, The money Gettin Up The money, the money, the money Gettin' Uuuupppp The money Gettin' Up! (ahahahahhaa) The money Gettin' Up! [Outro] Yeah Bitch! Taylor Gang or kill yourself man Look in the mirror, shoot the first thing you see (Yeah) That's not me, that's you (hahahahhah) Bitch!