Get High To This - Lil Wyte

Yea-yea Chuch ya’khamsayn

Once again it’s on baby, y’all know what time it is

I know it’sa shame ya’khamsayn

You gatta actually killa a mothafucka out here

Just ta let a nigga now you ain’t playin' with him

And you ain’t bullshittin' - yea that’s some knowledge fa y’all

Na'…we gon' get y’all inta this new artist

His new ass — Lil' Wyte, this boy raw…

) *plays in the background*

Get high to this shit — I’m high as a mothafucka

Alotta rappers rap gangsta shit but they ain’t did nothing

DJ Paul — Lord Inf'…Crunchy Blac fa real bussen

We done rolled down on niggas, we done let them gats burst

We done seen niggas blood leak clean through they shirt

I ain’t lying too ya boys when I said that cha’ll get did

Man I keep me some hungry niggas ready ta split the wig

Of a fake solid nigga, hoes lying in they raps

Cuz they never shot guns and they never had ta scrap

He wore a vest so we shot him in the neck

Made his body cold left em' red and wet

Body curved up like a cornrow

Police on the set, I’m a vet from the North — North

Pack a rusty tec in the Lex' plus a sawed-off

Hard makin' money when you watching for the ro-bbe-rers

Narcotics and these hoodrats — nut go-ba-lers

They’d take a shot at 'cha, put you in tha hospita'

Leave you left fa dead, and they tell ya I’mma halla at ya

Here I go again, try’na keep my mothafuckin' ass thin

Niggas halla friends, but they fake friends

I’mma nigga halla «mothafuck friends»

Tone up in my mothafuckin' right hand

I’mma 'bouta go and fuckin' rob a man

Just so I can keep my fuckin' family fed

Fuck what’cha heard this is what I said

Bust out some shots at ya fuckin' head

I’mma meet you pockin' bitches, whoppin' niggas wit' my pistol

In my yard they discovered, dead I’m out here out makin' missles

This is war when you fuckin' wit' LaChat — bitch y’ain’t know

Get 'cho posee out becuz we comin' 20 deep ho

Didn’t you need ta know that all that talk can get you fucked up

Ho this ain’t no game — that you playing you get bucked up

I’ont give a fuck who you is, who you in too

You won’t touch a bitch, ha who me bitch — but I’ll kill you

A crooked as a barrell of snakes

Fuck with the real not fake

I represent the Bay — so ain’t no need ta hate

I’m counting tones and spray

I’ll blow your clean away

This HCP don’t play — won’t see anotha day

Y’kno we Hyp-notize, can see it in your eyes

This Frayser Boy — no lie

Inhalin' dro — so fine

Y’kno we toppin' a poun'

And still we stompin' your smile

No need ta copy our styles

What chain’t been popped in a while

No more fuckin' around by now I’m fed up

I see your face has a frown — gatta keep your head up

Cuz when you fuck wit' this camp — let’s say you messed up

They told you in the beginning — don’t try ta test us

The day Lil' Wyte hooked up with the 6 — the shit was all she wrote

Y’kno these lyrics be burnin' - blisters deep in my throat

This shit be hotter than lava laying a hault in yo saga

Adding some Pippen ta bitches get at me weaker than water

This is the start of a problem thats lackin' a solution

You graduated with honors — ta sell out institution

And this for all the rappers that got kicked up out this camp

I stole your plate when back fa seconds — +How U Luvin' That?+

This is my mothafuckin' posee song — Wheres Jerome?

Instead of gettin' up out yo shit — you stayed ya ass at home

Potential lurking fa certain — I know you feel it hurt

If they knew bitchin' came wit' ya — you coulda kept ya verse

Bitch doubt me now