Get Up - clipping., Mariel Jacoda

No work, no food, still eatin' off paper plates

Banana clip is a paperweight, paper mate

Tell 'em how you’re married to the game

She fuckin' everybody but you still put a ring on it, on it

Keep it one hunnit, homies, home is where the homies

Home is where the homies got your back

Get your backpack get

Back to the block, bring it back to the block, shit

Slangin' crack beats cracks into Sacroiliac

But the Glock cocked back, lay another body flat

Here when they turn on the street lights

Hustle 'til they cut 'em off, that’s the street life

Got the chrome on my hip and a bird for sale

That’s how I get mine, that’s how I get it

Hustlin' is a habit, so they say

This is for the G’s who wasn’t trippin' and never knew any other way

Other ways of gettin' money, not many do not require

A degree of separation from the streets you gettin' paid in

In which the degree of difficulty is extraordinarily high

And she high while doin' it so see why

Somebody who isn’t from it might not understand

How you body a body in other words (how I could just kill a man)

And still a gram is a gram and nobody is Instagramin'

They killin' on Cypress Hill and they still is squeezin' the hammers

Police is beyond the scanners, these some obsequious bandits

And brandishin' flags of function

You fuck a figure, it’s fashion then flash on a motherfucker

You fuckin' seeing the passion, forgetting the hunger

This the jungle, time to get active and crack it

So acrobatic, it’ll flip in a sec, but set’s up and no second guessing

Here in the street, people sweating for the money

Here when they turn on the street lights

Hustle 'til they cut 'em off, that’s the street life

Got the chrome on my hip and a bird for sale

That’s how I get mine, that’s how I get it

No time for wifey’s babies or other collateral damage

Checking for snitches, they be the ones order tacos in Spanish

Always thinking that they blendin' in, but then sending them telegrams

To the rollers, they bitches, not meaning feminine

Meaning, fuck it, ain’t no explaining, get the fuck up and push cocaine

All these fuckers gon' sleep all day

But if you suck up when one of you step up to these bucks

Knock if you lacing up them chucks, no Taylor Gangin'

This shit is grimy and dirty, clothes stankin' while you slangin'

Get up out to the blacktop, backpack for the crack rock

Take shot at the cops at a spot where they knock a neighborhood watch

Watch him, learn the code if them eyes are closed

That means he sleeping on his feet and been out in the cold

And if he flashin' the gold

He either new or want action and got back up on the toes

Study all of your fractions, get up on the honor roll

Roll the marijuana then flip the hoodie up and get ghost

Here when they turn on the street lights

Hustle 'til they cut 'em off, that’s the street life

Got the chrome on my hip and a bird for sale, ayy

And if you trying to take this spot, better think twice

This ain’t play time, you’re fucking with my life

I’ma do what I gotta do to get my mil'

I gotta get mine, I gotta get it