Lyrics of 'Get Lucki' by Veeze

Gangerski
Yeah, that's stro (big stro, nigga)
Yeah, yeah

We don't do content, shh
Run it up times ten, shh (yeah)
I'm four pockets filled, pshh
That bitch got bad lip fillers (you know that)
Scuffs all on my brand new ricks, I'm tryna make 'em feel vintage
I'm with bro in oakland city, these niggas scared of real trenches (come on now)
Yeah, he gang, but he ain't ganger, I wouldn't split my pill with him (I wouldn't split my pill with him)
These niggas dumb, they'll steal the steak, we was tryna make a meal with 'em (tryna make a meal with 'em)
If I call you twin, your opps my opps, I promise I'm gon spin with you (swear to God)
I hit that bitch, her bestie too, I fucked up they whole friendship (fucked up they whole friendship)
I'm throwing fours and pourin' fours, you know I can't be fucked with
I hit the club through the special door, you ain't even know it opened (ah)
I went flat broke so many times, couldn't tell 'cause I ain't show it (nah)
I'm such a fucking rockstar, man, it's rips in all my clothing
The gang that's tatted on me responsible for your dead homie
These niggas good at internet thuggin', think they would tell on me (think these niggas might snitch)
I'm sittin' first class with dope in my bag, they sayin' I smell funny
I'm killin' the game, it's all on camera, I need me a bail bondsman
Cbf dot w, my young niggas shakin' somethin' (my young niggas shakin' some')
10k, that's play money, I'll buy your baby somethin' (we the biggest in the world, nigga)
Buy pints, we drank junkies, 'bout to pour me an eight or somethin'
I spread so many blue hundreds, look like I'm neighborhood chucking
Shit, I'll be back in the morning, nigga, just tell me how much you wanted (just tell me how much you want)
You know these bags is strong, you break, you buy, you bust it open (you want that what?)
Think I need to hang up posters with a reward, my swag was stolen (yeah)
He wanted a split of good, I pulled up and served him half oprah
Stuff twenty thou' in skinny pants, I call that a harriet tubman (frrt, beep)
My bitches be mad when I hit that ho, no cap, 'cause she ain't nothin'
I'm poppin' my shit like baby 'cause this outfit thirty-six hundred (I'm poppin' my shit like baby money)
I fall in the club with like so many killers, the bitches be scared to touch me (ha)

Give me some head, get lucky
Give me some head, get lucky (bitch)
Give me some head, get lucky
Bitch, give me some head, get lucky
Give me some head, get lucky
Yeah, give me some head, get lucky
Give me some—

Hold on, yeah
I want your friend, you buggin'
Girl, I know y'all do sex for money (yeah)
No lie, this shit feel like a movie scene, I'm fuckin' her, sweaty and muggy (huh, huh, huh, huh, huh)
I get off them drugs, forget who I am, I'm thinkin' I'm justin timber' (I'm thinkin' I'm justin timber')
I take like a zip out of all of his bags, that nigga wasn't paying attention (that nigga wasn't paying attention)
I makin' these charts for the city (yeah), I'm really the hardest nigga (I swear to God)
On drugs like my auntie beverly, I'ma pour up some syrup with my Grammy
These niggas so broke, they crashin' (they know), I'm gettin' too hot, man, fan me (they know)
This brick same color big latto, but I'll rip it out the plastic (woo)

Give me some head, get lucky (yeah)
Bitch, give me some head, get lucky
Ho, yeah, give me some head, get lucky
Pssh, give me some head, get lucky
Bitch, give me some head, get lucky
Give me some head, get lucky (the biggest)

C-b-f dot w (the only, the finest)
Young niggas shakin' somethin' (the ganger number one, ski, gang)
Gang, gang, gang
One of the biggest foes on earth though, know what I'm sayin'? 4pf, cbf dot w, can't be fucked with, man
This shit for— this shit five life
This shit for life though, you know what I'm saying?
Don't get this shit confused, man
Don't get none of the humbleness confused, man
Gang, gang