Songtext Getting' up Wiz Khalifa

Getting' up

Yeah, It's Young Khalifa,
Mr. Look the fuck up,
All that,
Feelin' real good about life,
Gotta drink poured, blunt lit,
Let's go,

Excuse me,
My jeans Levi,
My shoes is Gucci, Hoes like who he?
On a paper chase, don't waste my loose leaf,
A nigga payin' bills, lightin' L's on the beach,
But I still move the goons on a loose leash,
Some call it weird hoes call it unique,
Swag like I just stepped outta boutique,
And I spit like a gotta mouth fulla loose teeth,
Closet fulla new sneaks that I prolly never wear,
I'm in that president suite, BAD BITCH,
And if them niggas ain't me, AVERAGE,
I treat a beat like canvas,
Bob Ross on a song, Paint it perfect,
Ever run outta weed I throw a purp fit,
I keep the army at ease cuz ya'll ain't worth it,
Been considered a hipster cuz my shirts fit,
The way your bitch hit my chirp, make her hip hurt,
Young nigga ridin' that wave, Picture me surfin!
OT prolly see me in your circuit,
Same niggas hate, the same ones on my first shit,
Now that's irony,
Hoes wan' frequent me flow wrinkle free,
No Iron needed,
I'm on a level ya'll dyin' to be at,
Or somewhere you gotta fly to be at,
You know Leto's home,
So we spendin' up the grands on the sand gettin' blow,
Four or five freaks at least new in my phone,
Give you my adress, GPS to my home,
(Yeah) I party like I own Stocks,
Smoke blunts with CEO's who own they own yatchts,
Chillin' with bad hoes who pour they own shots, and pop pills,
While I approve million dollar deals,
Niggas in a frenzy, city cops on my heels,
But I'm too rich to give a fuck,
Besides hate the money Gettin' Up,
The money, the money, the money Gettin' Up,
The money Gettin Up, The money Gettin Up,
The money, the money, the money Gettin' Uuuupppp,

The money Gettin' Up! (ahahahahhaa),
The money Gettin' Up!,
YEAH BITCH!
Taylor Gang or kill yourself man,
Look in the mirror, shoot the first thing you see,
(Yeah) Thats not me, thats you,
(uhahahahhah)
Bitch!