Yung Joc ☆ What She Like (Feat. Yo Gotti)

I’m tired (I’m tired)
My feet hurt (my feet hurt)
Chasin’ that paper is
A lot of damn work (damn work)
But umma get it (umma get it)
But umma get it (umma get it)
But umma get it (umma get it)
But umma get it (umma get it)
Lil’ Buddy, I’m paid (I’m paid)
I got work (I got work)
Catch me in the trap (trap)
Blowin’ that purp’ (that purp’)
‘Cause umma get it (alright)
‘Cause umma get it (alright)
‘Cause umma get it (umma get it)
‘Cause umma get it (umma get it)

I’m so fly (fly) I defy gravity
Ask your bitch why she in my grill like a cavity
Interior like a show room, ain’t havin’ these
Exterior, strawberry daiquiri
Outfit, fresh to death, yes another casualty
Joc keep the tool to cop, with them goons in back of me
The faculty, you better be, aware I mean
I attend what they call the OG academy
My chick strategy is try to flip the salary
Get it, for tha, low, sell it, high, sounds fair to me
Dough boys, do it so magically
Fuck boys, choppa hit you automatically

I’m tired, my feet achin’
Smokin’ presidential, that Ronald Reagan
Bitch I do it big, ’tis probably why they hatin’
I don’t fuck with pigs but I’m bringin’ home the bacon
Ay, gotta sing, badda bing money, talk to her
Got more greens than that PGA golf tour (yeah)
I work my fork like my starch is faultless
That’s why I got more work than the unemployment office
Yeah, my dough stretches like laffy taffy
Welcome to the block, the real Hard Rock Cafe (ay!)
It’s so low, bitch you know who I am
I’m surrounded by the bread like ham, god damn

I work hard in the paint, turn that ass in
Joc keep a bad bitch and a bad friend
I’m talkin’ ’bout that heavy metal, or that plastic
Either one that I bust up into them fragments
Shorty hop your ass in, get a ride with a G
I talk the seventh letter of the alphabet, that’s me
When them cats screams fall don’t turn other beat
Put my hands in them drawers with them alligator seats
When their 8’s on their feet, the 30’s ain’t cheap
Them Jack Boy plight, man, I have them countin’ sheep
A international player, bitch I might be
Respect it when you see it or I beat up MC

Lil’ Buddy, I’m tired (I’m tired)
My feet hurt (my feet hurt)
Chasin’ that paper is
A lot of damn work (damn work)
But umma get it (umma get it)
But umma get it (umma get it)
But umma get it (umma get it)
But umma get it (umma get it)
Lil’ Buddy, I’m paid (I’m paid)
I got work (I got work)
Catch me in the trap (trap)
Blowin’ that purp’ (that purp’)
‘Cause umma get it (alright)
‘Cause umma get it (alright)
‘Cause umma get it (umma get it)
‘Cause umma get it (umma get it)

—————–
Umma Get It
Yung Joc