Gon Get Em Lyrics

Gon Get Em Lyrics by Clear Soul Forces :
[Intro – Noveliss]

I’m jeans on and you slack casually
Murder murder, you’ll forever be a casualty
People say I’ve changed, that don’t make sense
This quarter, I sorta got a penny for my dreams, take this
Successor, change the way we act
See I look good either way, reversible personality
Father’s ain’t sh*t, I’m a bast*rd with dreams
Time is money, but what if I’m late fashionably?
Walking like Jordan after the rings
Boy, you looking like f*cking Smeagol going after the ring
You look bad, shoulda learned something, couldn’t get you election here
Clear your acts up like I’m sitting in a director’s chair
With a broom and a janitor’s shirt
I kill ’em all and clean ’em up, that’s the janitor’s dirt
It’s the Pulitzer with a backpack
Prize winner, smoke screen, see it all with my eyes thinner
Mama spoiled us, had us played the cards I was dealt
Was born premature, cut in line for that royal flush
For the time being, you a sound seeing
I’m painting this picture, assault wider in the dream seeing
Powder page writers dope
They ain’t got creative minds, they colourblind and I’m looking through a kaleidoscope
Like to welcome you where the best be
A n*gga underrated as a PG movie with F bombs and a sex scene

[Hook – Noveliss]
And if i didn’t get ’em, then Wimpy gon’ get ’em
And if i didn’t get ’em, then Wimpy gon’ get ’em
And if i didn’t get ’em, then Wimpy gon’ get ’em
Go get ’em, my n*gga, go get ’em

This game got a million and one competitors
See [?], it’s a long road ahead of us
We labeled c*cky, but we only think we’re better cause
n*ggas make a racket but my team full of Federers
I’m the Scottie Pippen of the verb
Put in the same amount of work
Don’t get the credit I deserve
Came out the womb, only talent was to spit
Birthed in a box, i was born with a gift
I’m on point like a needle point
n*ggas feel you need ’em, but for me it’s like “seeya, b*tch!”
Can’t call my own hoes cause I deleted it
Busy tryna get my dogs dollars, sh*t I’m Richie Rich
You not serious, belittle all you little n*ggas
I’m over their head, I’m monkey in the middle
Flow bananas, half man, half gorilla
Nothing like y’all have saw, sick sh*t, none iller
Damnit, I’m Jared, got a sandwich fetish
I can never get enough bread, cheese, lettuce
If you the standard, I exceed, f*ck, never met it
So the team odds like flipping coins two headed
Veni vidi vici, make it look very easy
I lead like Leonardo as an artist, I’m da Vinci
Got me twisted like a fork full of fettuccine
When I say that i’m the truth, homie, please believe me
Please believe me

[Hook – L.A.Z]
If Wimp ain’t get ’em, E-Fav gon’ get em
If Wimp ain’t get ’em, Ila gon’ get em
Go get ’em, my n*ggas, go get em
Go get ’em, my n*ggas, go get em

I got you
You see we like Buonarotti Michelangelo
Statue with that [?]
Stand still, soul sound, bring it back, remember that
Landscape with a paper [?], Rembrandt

We shine brighter, whites righter, frequent flyer flyer
And you a [?], the world is a canvas
And I could resort to malice, but I’d rather write a ballad
I be vivid, jottin’, flowin’, no different than Wonderland Alice

Pistol from the palace flipping letters man, jack it
I’m a Pringle on the single, bring it back
And I’m packing twelve packs of beer, your beer belly flaccid
I’m a lantern with a genie and Orlando – magic

And i’m a flying spur, okay, see
We thunderin’, so [?] list the greatest, you gon’ have to be up under this
Revenge is sweet, sh*t’s a cold, cold dish
And you’ve been physically, mentally, lyrically bested in three minutes

Three pen it, he’s finished, see the force is a weapon
Bars fast as fifty cars, and I’m gone in sixty seconds
Ch-ch-check it, [?] Cage, Johnny Cage and Lucas Cage
Either way, you just a n*gga reading comics, turn the page

Keep it going, flow is like sipping on cyanide potion
Floating through these beats, keep it bouncin’, Cali 64’ing
People asking how it’s so easy, we make these music motion pictures
We just tell ’em it’s nothing, just wait and see the feature

Through the speakers when I’m speaking, you can see it on streak
And over beats, my voice is screaming, “power up!” {?]
Burning up, my tires screeching ‘fore I see these n*ggas leeching
Burn the porch in kerosene and take a flight, you take a seat

And you can call me Huey P, [?]
In 501’s, [?] creeping up on the scene
It’s a million ways to hustle and make green
So make a way, get out the way and get spit roasted with sixteens
CSF, n*gga!