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luh tyler - gettin' fishy lyrics

[intro: luh tyler]
yeah, n+gga
ayy, n+gga, yeah
ayy, n+gga, rrr
(vince, pull up to the stu’, man)

[verse 1: luh tyler]
runnin’ them racks up, perfect timing
jump on the beat, get paid by rhyming
n+gga, they creep, watch how they sliming
lil’ goofy+ass n+gga went broke on diamonds
n+gga, when i step, my bros behind me
bro sip that drank, he turn to a zombie
just stack your paper, boy, just keep grindin’
we gon’ run the racks up, go see johnny
we gon’ run the racks up, n+gga, just sit back, stack, young n+gga gon’ get to the bag
brodie wake up, bust down in the trap, n+gga, ain’t no nap, gotta get off them bags
i be runnin’ laps on a n+gga while you in the house on the couch, n+gga, get off your ass
young n+gga jumped in the booth, no pen, no pad, n+ggas know i’m finna gas
young n+gga chasin’ them blues like nipsey
yeah, pop out, b+tch, i’m sticky
bro make n+ggas run just like they ricky (frrt)
bro in the cut with that switchy
this b+tch got ass on her just like nicki
lil’ b+tch give top, tell the ho, “don’t kiss me”
dump a bag on a cuban, don’t want no richy
these n+ggas be creep, man, sh+t gettin’ fishy (n+gga, yeah)
[verse 2: scy jimm]
ayy, freestyled this sh+t off the head
play with the gang, you dead
ayy, run up, send shots at your head
know you f+ck n+ggas heard what i said
i’m countin’ pink and blue money, but somehow still seein’ red
mmm, that boy went broke on a chain, ‘fore i go broke, i’m goin’ fed, n+gga
ayy, beat the the pot
these n+ggas flat, i keep a knot
keep that fire, these n+ggas plot
f+ck n+gga play, we lettin’ off shots
mmm, i can’t trust no thot
ice my wrist, they say i’m hot
ayy, cheese, we get a lot
they know i’m him, he mad he not

[verse 3: wizz havin]
ayy, i’m supposed to be in the stu’, but i’m in here beatin’ the pot
yeah, talkin’ cheese, we get a lot
stackin’ it, i let it rot (n+gga)
n+gga be workin’ with cops (f+ck)
these hoes be f+ckin’ the opps (d+mn)
you broke and workin’ the clock
you don’t even know how to serve no rocks, n+gga
every day i wake up, n+gga, i’m beatin’ the block down (for sure)
country boy comin’ from georgia, he finna score like five pounds
n+gga play up in this b+tch, i up this fire, hit five rounds
free my n+gga true, he finna jump, he in that countdown
[verse 4: luh tyler]
take your b+tch to pound town, we headed to the top, can’t hit the ground
these n+ggas be broke, they dumb, they clowns
my n+ggas step out, drip water, don’t drown
bro jump in the trap, he gettin’ off pounds
you ain’t tryna get a bag, get your ass from ’round
when you hear that, “frrt,” tell a b+tch get down
lil’ b+tch, i’m the king, don’t need no crown
n+gga, yeah, ayy, get that money, look out for my brother, b+tch
n+ggas, they know what it is
go get that bag, stand on that biz
these n+ggas cap, they work at lids
i got your lil’ b+tch doin’ tricks
i’m chasin’ that bag, don’t chase no b+tch
let’s get in that mode, b+tch, i’m finna glitch

- luh tyler lyrics

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