BoatBoyBerry - Intro (Get Buck/Get Mad) Lyrics

Get buck , get mad
You can run up and get put on yo ass
Fuck the police bitch I’m doing the dash
I Hop in the coupe yea you know imma smash
Get buck get mad
Fuck how you feel i run straight to the bag
Gucci my waist yea you know i don’t sag
You niggas my sons give a fuck bout ya dad
I’m countin I’m drippin po up yeah I’m sippin
Drip down in supreme while i whip in the kitchen
How you niggas get money but live off a pension
Same niggas 8th grade that was living detention
Good head on my shoulder i know wrong from right
Niggas sippin NyQuil n call it dirty sprite
Don’t play with that boy if you value ya life
Y’all can’t put down no guns u niggas scared to fight
Get buck , get mad
You can run up and get put on yo ass
Fuck the police bitch I’m doing the dash
I Hop in the coupe yea you know imma smash
Get buck get mad
Fuck how you feel i run straight to the bag
Gucci my waist yea you know i don’t sag
You niggas my sons give a fuck bout ya dad
Still wit the same yeah we reppin the Nawf
I took some Ls but I ain take a loss
Fuck dat boy cuz that line he done crossed
I’m leveling up shit i feel like a boss
I value my time and ain got nun to waist
You talk to me crazy get put in ya place
I can smell bitch and see it on ya face
Go talk to Bishop ain catching no case
You niggas broke and still counting my pockets
We goin up taking off like a rocket
Nd yeah we fitted drippin down like a faucet
Yo chain fake put that shit in ya pocket
Life is a test find a way to succeed
But shit god got me man i prayed on my knees
Gramma and pops hope you look down and see
Ya grand baby finna get his degree
Get buck , get mad
You can run up and get put on yo ass
Fuck the police bitch I’m doing the dash
I Hop in the coupe yea you know imma smash
Get buck get mad
Fuck how you feel i run straight to the bag
Gucci my waist yea you know i don’t sag
You niggas my sons give a fuck bout ya dad
One , 2 , 3 to the 4
I need me some liquor gon pull to the store
Five , 6 , 7 and 8
I said to push-up and you bet not be late
Nine , 10 gon say it again
If you left out my life i can’t let you back in
Never too much to eat when the goal was to win
Contemplate crashin out but I’ll never give in
BITCH

Get buck , get mad
You can run up and get put on yo ass
Fuck the police bitch I’m doing the dash
I Hop in the coupe yea you know imma smash
Get buck get mad
Fuck how you feel i run straight to the bag
Gucci my waist yea you know i don’t sag
You niggas my sons give a fuck bout ya dad
I’m countin I’m drippin po up yeah I’m sippin
Drip down in supreme while i whip in the kitchen
How you niggas get money but live off a pension
Same niggas 8th grade that was living detention
Good head on my shoulder i know wrong from right
Niggas sippin NyQuil n call it dirty sprite
Don’t play with that boy if you value ya life
Y’all can’t put down no guns u niggas scared to fight
Get buck , get mad
You can run up and get put on yo ass
Fuck the police bitch I’m doing the dash
I Hop in the coupe yea you know imma smash
Get buck get mad
Fuck how you feel i run straight to the bag
Gucci my waist yea you know i don’t sag
You niggas my sons give a fuck bout ya dad
Still wit the same yeah we reppin the Nawf
I took some Ls but I ain take a loss
Fuck dat boy cuz that line he done crossed
I’m leveling up shit i feel like a boss
I value my time and ain got nun to waist
You talk to me crazy get put in ya place
I can smell bitch and see it on ya face
Go talk to Bishop ain catching no case
You niggas broke and still counting my pockets
We goin up taking off like a rocket
Nd yeah we fitted drippin down like a faucet
Yo chain fake put that shit in ya pocket
Life is a test find a way to succeed
But shit god got me man i prayed on my knees
Gramma and pops hope you look down and see
Ya grand baby finna get his degree
Get buck , get mad
You can run up and get put on yo ass
Fuck the police bitch I’m doing the dash
I Hop in the coupe yea you know imma smash
Get buck get mad
Fuck how you feel i run straight to the bag
Gucci my waist yea you know i don’t sag
You niggas my sons give a fuck bout ya dad
One , 2 , 3 to the 4
I need me some liquor gon pull to the store
Five , 6 , 7 and 8
I said to push-up and you bet not be late
Nine , 10 gon say it again
If you left out my life i can’t let you back in
Never too much to eat when the goal was to win
Contemplate crashin out but I’ll never give in
BITCH