K. Roosevelt - Keep It G lyrics

[Hook] Yeah this is for my G's that be riding up high Looking haters in they eyes every time they pa** by Just keep it G, keep it G Tell them you ain't even trippin, keep it G, keep it G Yeah this is for my ladies keep they hair and nails did Who ain't worried about a man cause they got they own sh** Just keep it G, keep it G Tell 'em you ain't even trippin, keep it G, keep it G [Verse 1: Skeme] Hello to the haters Hands on my co*k screaming, "f** y'all, pay us" Probably couldn't do it til the day you get your weight up And I'm down for whatever, I'm guessing that's why we stay up Wait up, you still on that old sh** Crazy how I'm hot, but we steady dropping cold sh** Big money every time you see me coming Got the model women flocking trying to party with the youngin' Big Skeme n***a, you know what the deal is Sox Gang rap, them boys know who the real is Feel this, you can't gamble with little chips Got it, been had it, you talking about what you will get Why you trying to tell mines what you been through I'm trying to find a bad redbone n***a, then two Got that money on my mental Pimp tight game leave her wetter than a swimsuit Gone [Hook] [Bridge] Got bottles of that Rosé, bout to get poured up Bunch of groupies on it and they acting like they know us She thinking sho nuff, I'm thinking so what Just a young n***a, but my pockets on grown up [Verse 2: Skeme] So miss me with that rap sh** I'm gooned up, black shades in the back lit Sox fitted and you know I keep my hats tipped Backwood wrap smelling strong homie, pa** this Coupe outside on 8's Speakers just beating, make the insides shake If she ain't with the business, ain't no getting in for free Sweetie I ain't being rude, I'm just trying to keep it G Club close at 2, I'm the condo around 3 Had that black dress fitting, man I know that she a freak After we finish girl you know I'm screaming peace Sweetie I ain't being rude, I'm just trying to keep it G What's up [Hook] [Verse 3: Tyga] The paper roll up, burn through it, Cigarillo Smell the aroma, inhale this homegrown ghetto My b**h ghetto, riding to the instrumental Bags on the seat with the chrome in the middle I'm King Kong, Japanese boy, you're too little I spit on you like a baby's pillow Ill pop a n***a, T k**a eat your dinner To gold plate, then I'm home watching Sportscenter Man, get that fast money like gas money Young Money, Cash Money, all one hunnid n***as gonna flex hard til they pull a muscle Press a bu*ton, watch this motherf**er smash like a pumpkin Big body Benz, but the sh** don't mean nothing I got my homie straight, now they on the Shaw stuntin' Tell em keep it G with the hoes, no cuffing Skeme said let's give the streets something So yeah [Hook]