Go Get Pretty Like Me - U-God

Yeah, this one right here

Is for those fly motherfuckers

All those motherfuckers get money

All those money makers

When you look in the mirror

And you confident, your cologne is on right

You smelling good, youknowhatimsayin'

You ready to go out on the town, knowhatimsayin'

It’s all like this, go get pretty like me

I rock Dolce and Gabbana, Pierre Cardan frames

Please, sunset windblows, pictures in the breeze

Diamond cufflinks on, banging on my sleeve

The studded engraved, solid gold L.A.'s

Turn up my nose, to all those people that hate

Cuz I create the dinner plates, the things they can’t

Mona Lisa’s on my wall, I splash the Rem', brand

Then dance the tango, with a rose in my teeth

See this Spanish fly mami, with a rosary bead

Hold her close to me, then I scuff my Gucci loafers

Through money on the oochie, she fuck me in the Rover

I bent her over, the butter soft ostrich

After that, we had, some, sushi with some chopsticks

We blew the Grand Canyon, the mansion with the tropics

The house was made of marble, waterfall, walk-in closets

She had the red hots, had me coming out my boxers

There’s no one in the city like me

No one gets gritty like me, homey

Big wheels spinnin' on D’s

Go get pretty like me, Goldie

You’re messin' with a real O. G

Ya’ll niggas, y’all gon' see, homey

No one gets gritty like me, Goldie

Go get pretty like me

In the Rolls, vintage clothes like the mobster

Take my hat off, hit the mic stand like Sinatra

Seats at the opera, whose the man behind the suit

Fireplace, on the mantle, the head of a moose

Analyze the truth, still slicin' all you snakes

The lady killer, license plate, icing on the cake

Drop, anchors of weight, more paper, acres of states

Exquisite taste, cigars dipped, in that

You’re strong back, Dom raps, time to bomb back

In fact, I’m giving hoes a back hand slap

Ain’t that, one of the ten commandments of rap

My feet tap like Sammy, drop your donation

Black and white bitches, Puerto Ricans and Haitians

With Playboy titties, in heavy rotation

Getting that paper, is my motivation

In the palm of my hand, I control the nation, baby

Don’t fuck with my bitches

Or you’ll leave in stitches, homey

Silky silky silk, da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da, Goldie