GTFU - Injury Reserve, JPEGMAFIA, Cakes Da Killa

Get the fuck up

(Wow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow)

Uh, fuck boy, get the fuck up

Get up off yo' ass, nigga

(Blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow)

Ahh, damn, get the fuck up

(Blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow)

Disenfranchised, screamin' yup in my white tee

Me not gettin' to the money, unlikely

Somethin' cocky, the stiffest dicks couldn’t top me

Fuck that cute shit, all the subbin' don’t excite me

Rather get my nails done, sip on somethin' icy

Catch me out in Sydney, sippin' on a iced tea

Always on the hustle, ain’t no time for the link up

Readjust my rhythm so these listeners can keep up

How I give you clout, you turn around and try to son me

Bitch, I made a way for you faggots to get your money

Minked in the winter, mesh crop when it’s sunny

Can’t afford to act funny when you gettin' to the money

Gettin' too close, please don’t touch

I ain’t say «Simon says,» nigga, please back up (Back up)

Passport stuntin', you MTA bummin'

Don’t address the fuckin' judge unless I hit you with a summons

Check it, yo, what’s up, nigga?

Simon says door’s open, donut the truck, nigga

Tuck in your chain, throw 'bows in the function

If a nigga ain’t like it, tell him, «Back up, nigga»

Yuh, get back, nigga

I ain’t really fuckin' with none of these rap niggas

We be bumpin' yo' shit, sittin', just fact-checkin'

We be bumpin' yo' shit, sittin just laugh, nigga

I don’t wanna be that nigga

Shit, I ain’t gonna be that nigga

Shit changed, they don’t wanna see that nigga

You like Stacey Dash on BET, my nigga

If you pray, can you pray for these niggas?

And if you don’t, can you pour one out for these niggas?

Simon says, «Get your own sound, lil' nigga»

All these cover bands lookin' like clowns, lil' nigga

Everywhere we go

I ain’t trippin', I ain’t playin' with y’all

I ain’t trippin', I ain’t playin' with y’all niggas

I ain’t sittin', I ain’t politicin', hatin' on y’all

I ain’t really go on wait on y’all niggas

Y’all be rippin', ain’t no real innovatin' involved

I ain’t, I ain’t hatin' on y’all, just had to tell you niggas 'bout it

Some of y’all take off fast, but forget distance

This a marathon, not a sprint, there’s a big difference

Way too quick to react, save that for Quint

Got the game upset like the '04 Pistons

Fuck it, mask on, I’m so ready to rip 'em

I ain’t pourin' out shit, but I will take a shot for 'em

Shit, your mans talkin' bad like this is not for him

Tell that shit to your mans then, not forums

I ain’t got to say we hot, let the fans do it

Try to pass on us, you shoulda ran, stupid

Malcolm Butler on that ass, interceptin' trash

I told y’all, a box in the sand won’t ever last

No, for real, no, for real

I really, I really tried to tell these niggas too, that’s what’s funny

Malcolm Butler on that ass, interceptin' trash

I told y’all, a box in the sand won’t ever last

(Yeah, all these)

Get the- get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck- get the fuck up

Get the fuck- get the fuck up

Get the fuck- get the fuck- get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck- get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the- get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up

Get the fuck up, get the fuck up