Wiz Khalifa Lyrics
G.F.U. Lyrics
[1st Verse - Wiz Khalifa]
24, from the hood and I made 11 million this year so I'm throwin up paper. Got a bunch of niggas with me that done made it from the bottom, gettin money, all throwin up Taylor, you can roll em out, puff em, I don't save it, I stuff em I don't, gotta chase money I'm good I'll bake the whole onion and replace it likes it's nothin ya I'm talking straight cookies no oven. And I'm smokin in public, rich folks still love it. He talkin, he bluffin, that's my chick, she stuntin. And my team is the wildest, try and get high enough to see Mr. Wallace. Thumbs green like the malice, this is for my youngins gettin steemed up in college. If you seen all my closets so much style, its like my stylist had a stylist. And my crib like a palace, Wizzle go hard like a callus.
[Chorus - Wiz Khalifa and Juicy J]
[Wiz Khalifa] All we smoke is papers, blowin hella flavors, smokin till it's gone, that's how we do it cause we're Taylor'd
[Juicy J] Get high (get high) get f*cked up (get f*cked up) Get high (get high) get f*cked up (f*cked up) Get high (get high) get f*cked up (f*cked up) Get high (get high) get f*cked up (f*cked up)
[2nd Verse - Juicy J]
Cop a Pound, come a pound, roll a pound, blow it down, call a hoe, it's goin down, Juicy J from stoner town. Originality where Mary Jane control the sound. Blue Dream and Lean for all of those who knew the time. Hash, keef oils in the gas mask, we doin numbers like its math class. Match one, nigga don't you know I'm match back, Colors on the herb make the bud look abstract. Smoke good, cause I deserve it, sour deisel got me swervin. I'm swervin, right up on the curbin. Big bong rips, got my chest hurtin, Purp naps, in the Marriott suite, I wanna taste the weed but the swisher too sweet. So make sure you know its only Taylor's if we meet. If you get trippy mane you can't even choke a bean. Blood came through and just dropped off a load. And I ain't sellin shit everything gettin smoked. Smoke when I get up, smoke myself to sleep. Taylor Gang bitch 10 pounds every week.
[Chorus]
[Wiz Khalifa] All we smoke is papers, blowin hella flavors, smokin till it's gone, that's how we do it cause we're Taylor'd
[Juicy J] Get high (get high) get f*cked up (f*cked up) Get high (get high) get f*cked up (f*cked up) Get high (get high) get f*cked up (f*cked up) Get high (get high) get f*cked up (f*cked up)
[3rd Verse - Berner]
Burn, Ima rep for my city, I'm on two blue pills and got the room smellin pissy. Ask, I tell her don't kiss me don't come up for air, lost your bitch to the game, f*ck it life isn't fair I'm to chill. 2 mil re-caught with my rap money. Two or three pads bad bitches roll the planes for me. Two strains that my new nickname, cherry pound cookie all you see is a big flame. Stunt, grown man with a coat on, trippy in a room full of girls with no clothes on. Butta ya I love how I'm living. I just left the night club I'm in bed with three women. Too high, too fly, big belly cause I eat good. Blew 30 grand on drinks, I better sleep good. Bag full of shit you prolly seen in my twitpics. Hoodrich the only thing a stripper get is good dick. Ya I'm so slow motion in an S class floatin hard to keep my eyes open, A king pin I keep by weed by the elbow. Skin all itchy tonight, I'm drinkin yellow
[Chorus]
[Wiz Khalifa] All we smoke is papers, blowin hella flavors, smokin till it's gone, that's how we do it cause we're Taylor'd
[Juicy J] Get high (get high) get f*cked up (get f*cked up) Get high (get high) get f*cked up (get f*cked up) Get high (get high) get f*cked up (get f*cked up) Get high (get high) get f*cked up (get f*cked up)
Writer: Cameron Thomaz
Copyright: Lyrics © Pgh Sound, WB Music Corp.