(Get it, get it, get it, get it) Uh You ho's couldn't see me if I drop a pin When I'm walking in the party got him stiffer than a brim Dollars turning blue think they need some oxygen Java script get with the program, bitch it's OG One and Wynne, (OG One) I got the rock at the block, key in the lock Foot on the gas, hand on the throttle, I'm putting Oregon on top like I'm Bach Baby I like when you handle it cuz I get tired of being the boss This what it cost, I turn him on like a light got him flocking to me like a moth Firefighter, I bring the hoes in He don't ghost Wynne, his schedules always open If I want I call n see him like a Roman Pick up the phone and we go kick it like the low end Small waist, not safe, white wine, chardonnay Body like this I should cop some Jean Paul Gaultier Circle small, watch face, pussy sound like pasta plate Folding all the competition tell those hoes it's laundry day (Fresh outta the dryer you getting folded!) This or that its time to pick Triple double and 9 assists Throw it back, rewind the clip, think you're a match, bitch light the wick Money on us if you're going against my dogs, Michael Vick Poster child I'm the joint like quarter pound of Oregon loud I'm popping in designer stores I can't afford to poke around I'm the big one causing waves from Newport to Okinawa And sold out every pub in Portland, shit look like its rolling loud Firefighter, I bring the hoes in He don't ghost Wynne, his schedules always open If I want I call n see him like a roman Pick up the phone and we go kick it like the low end I be glowing, don't I know it And they chase me down like block like I stole shit Popping moet, head to toe in Vintage shit you couldn't find less you're in Portland I bring the volume to the mass Y'all are dense its simple math Quit the gab, I'm not going broke to flex in business class Hit the flash when you picture this, bitch don't forget to ask Y'all always showing off a whole lotta nun, sister act Got a taurus sun, sag moon, and my money rising Visine in my eyes, standing on it I can sightsee 9 inch dick, where the fly knits? Lost my pussy when I put it in this mixtape I'm tryna find it I don't listen to the birds chirping bitch I get to work I'm sick of y'all stretching out my clothes, tugging on my shirt I know they're hurt me bout but they can't say shit bout my verse Say every time I drop all they really say's I'm from the burbs Firefighter, I bring the hoes in He don't ghost Wynne, his schedules always open If I want I call n see him like a Roman Pick up the phone and we go kick it like the low end (Let's get it) Small waist, not safe, white wine, chardonnay Body like this I should cop some Jean Paul Gaultier Circle small, watch face, pussy sound like pasta plate Folding all the competition tell those hoes it's laundry day (We're serving up bars, let's go)