Killa Kyleon
Get Throwed
[Verse 1: Lupe Fiasco]
My name, L-U-P that trill n***a
Lean on me like Bill Withers
I’m a shark fin you a seal flipper
No liquor, no weed, no pills n***a
Still I feel I still iller
Cat burglar with the skills n***a
No codeine, old lean, still ODing and I cod I still with you
Feel like a film, you a still picture
No movement, I’m a movie screen
On syrup, no sir, did it all sober like Gucci Mane
From showing off I do refrain
But in the v12 I do be staying
On the low yes I do remain
But I can pull up more autos like 2 T-Pains
2 Kanyes, 2 Lil Waynes, 5 good watches
3 good chainz
Please don’t think that it’s coochie mane
My heart running cold like choo choo trains
Trae Tha Truth and Bun B, they my kinfolk
All my friends f**k a fan from the intro
Been dope since the dog in the trench coat
Now you gotta try and keep them off of this flow
Like I just swept, and I just mopped
And it’s still wet, so you better not
I’m a macbook, I go anywhere
And you can’t go, you’re a desktop
So, I know exactly where to find y’all
You can find me too, all you gotta do
Is follow all the foot prints that I left in your Pine-Sol

[Hook: Z-Ro]
Good weed, good drank, big money, man
Rolling in something foreign no leather, grippin
I handle my business, so I think I deserve to get throwed
Get throwed, throwed, throwed

[Verse 2: Killa Kyleon]
Leanin' to the left, keep a deuce in my linen, man
Time money, what I just call it, call it minute made
All I do is ball like the ‘Stros off in Minute Maid
So I rock diamonds like the field, that's Minute Maid
Renegade, Em and Jay, real n***a anyway
So I’m gettin' money homeboy that’s plenty paid
I got racks on racks, that’s stacks on stacks
While you broke a** n***as lookin' sad gettin' penny paid
Out rappin' these square a** n***as like burritos
So I see chips, y’all n***as see Cheetos
Ben Franks on me, plus Jacks like T**o
Them other n***as fly, but they ain’t fly as me though
Got wings, hot wings, Superman, where my cape at
On like phones, goddamn I know they hate that
I’m a bad boy so my pockets lookin' Puffy like ?
I rap a lot like J and his son named Jas, I make good music like Kanye jams
So I’m taking off like a runway fast, in that new model, that’s runway cash
SS Chevy, sittin' on 4's
I got a stomachache, I’m sh*ttin' on hoes
For my 20's, still pouring that sh*t up
Iron Man chest, chain got my sh*t lit up
[Hook: Z-Ro]
Good weed, good drank, big money, man
Rolling in something foreign no leather, grippin
I handle my business, so I think I deserve to get throwed
Get throwed, throwed, throwed

[Verse 3: Twista]
I got a million flows in my arsenal
Take a listen I will spit at you a bar or 2
I could come with something simple or more instrumental so coming up with the lyrics will be hard to do
So intricate with my rock out can make you catch a ? can make her listen what that n***a doing ? saying damn a n***a flowin
? coming up with a predicate they feeling me i’m a human encyclopedia
I keep it low-key instead of acting like a clown in front of the public cause I dont the like the media
But I come with the piff, and the heat and the sh*t and crack
My flow arsenic, methamphetamine, cocaine, anthrax

[Hook: Z-Ro]
Good weed, good drank, big money, man
Rolling in something foreign no leather, grippin
I handle my business, so I think I deserve to get throwed
Get throwed, throwed, throwed