Who Got Ya - Nems

Uh, uh

Yeah

Turn this shit the fuck up

Uh, yeah

Yo, y’all bitches sittin' over there, turn the fuck up

Ya didn’t hear me?

Turn my shit the fuck up

Walk right in the booth with the headphones on, nigga, uh

Who got ya?

These bars’ll knock ya cheek to the oppo-

Site side of ya face, collide with the bass, then its on, nigga

Fuck all that shit you been listenin' to (Fuck it)

I been nice since G Funk was comin' to see me in that visitin' room (Facts)

Look at all the shit that I give to you

And I expect nothin' in return

I’ll body you, fuck ya bitch, then nut inside ya urn (Pussy)

Nobody gave me nothin', homie, this is what I earn

Now I can wait my turn

Or I can fuck the whole industry with my words

Raw dog like Usher and let it burn (Burn, burn)

But I chose to take the art in my hands

'Cause waitin' for a record deal was never part of the plan

Started writin' bars for the 'Gram

'Cause in my mind I knew none of these rappers stood a chance to spar wit' ya

man

Fam, I ain’t get no advance

I ain’t get no money put inside my hands

I did it for the fans

I did it so you could understand

Now when you put me next to any rapper I’m way advanced

Who got ya?

Now I see my sons copying my blueprint

Boogie boardin' my wave, acting like I’m stupid

Well listen, Duke, I’m happy I could inspire you

Just know the day we go face-to-face I will retire you

Fire you, broken jaw wire you, expire you

Me die before you?

You liar, you

Who got ya?

You know I got more for sure (For sure)

I’m in ya hood dolo, movin' merch door-to-door (Ding)

House-to-house, floor-to-floor

Made a hundred racks last year without a website or a store (Nigga)

All hustle, fat boy, all muscle (Yup)

Right hook’ll make ya jaw buckle (Bow)

It’ll only takes one fist four knuckles, you could get it

The key to life remain humble, stay consistent

I saw the light excite all the freaks

Sell in a day and drop new shit every week

I’m not these other rappers, I be doin' what I speak (Facts)

Sweatin' in the summer while you coolin' at the beach

These dudes think hustlin' is sendin' out a tweet (Nah, yo)

She wit' me givin' toppy while you DM her your meat (Ew)

Homie, you a creep, you a weirdo, you a freak (Yup)

Jumpin' crew-to-crew that just shows me that you’re weak (Homie)

I’m out here with the fans

Takin' pictures for the 'Gram in the streets

While you dying your dirty dreads with bleach (Fuck outta here)

I put my soul into these raps everyday I sacrifice

So you could have some real shit in ya life

Who Got Ya?

Yo, why does it sound like that?

Like what?

Grimy

'Cause it’s supposed to, stupid