Song Lyrics

(Trap House Mob)
(Yo, what you tellin' me?)
What you tellin' me?
Yeah, I got Stacks to the right of me
I got Mickey to the left of me, huh, wait
Woo, yeah, look
Ay, what up
Hold on, what they talkin' 'bout?
What them folks talkin' 'bout? Huh
Look

Buddy gon', grrrt that, grrrt that, blrrt that, blrrt that
Send shots, make him get back
All that chit-chat, chit-chat, riff-raff, riff-raff
My niggas ain't in to that
Nigga be talkin' up, but he ain't on shit (woo)
I got like fifty rounds up in this clip (uh)
If I go to jail, nigga, I plead the fifth (uh)
'Cause mommy still gon' love her kid
Niggas tryna lock me up and give me a bid
I'm like, "Nigga, f*ck the pigs"
The judge like, "Why you actin' like a dick"
I said, "I'm movin' like I'm Steven Vick"
My lawyer like, "Poppy, why you bring Xan"
I said, "I pop a Perc and feel amazin'"
Shoot for the stars, I'm a foundation, huh
Look at the money, I'm raisin'
She wanna f*ck, hold on
She's stuck in a book, have her wait for arraignment
She get dick, edible arrangements
That's the only form a payment
Shawty a snack
And after I slack, I'ma blow out her back
She like, "Poppy, you so crazy"
I told her, "Wind on me, baby" (huh)
She want a star, she wanna f*ck and she know who we are
These hoes they be dirty, I ain't hittin' them raw
When it comes to hoes, I got bitches galore (woo)
She wanna grip that, lick that
Ass, where the stick at
Freak bitch for my dick, where her lips at
She gone off gas, no chit-chit (ay)
She gone off gas, no chit-chit (ay)
Ay, grab up her bum (bum)
Here come that boy with the drum (Woo)
If I pull it out, then that boy gonna run
If he want the smoke, knock this beef out his blunt, ay
I go dum-dum-dumb (go dumb)
Air it out, leave 'em slum-slum-slumped (baow)
F*ck what they say, they know that I'm Gucci
Pull up with a pum-pum-pump

Bashar Barakah Jackson, Yosief Tafari

The duration of Get Back is 1:48 minutes and seconds.