Git In Bun B (Ft. Big Capp & Young Money Moe)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Git In" by Bun B (Ft. Big Capp & Young Money Moe). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro: Big Capp]
Yeah, Big Capp, pussy
Pussy ass
Tryin to get in where you fit in, huh? (Pimp C)
Well ain't no room over here (UGK)
Bun, Bun (Young Money Moe)
II Trill West (West)
II Trill (II Trill), II Trill (II Trill), West
[Verse 1: Bun B]
Man God damn I hate a buster
Talkin about he shinin but his shit is lackluster (lackluster)
No karats in his chain, no cluster
Nigga you a burger, try to catch up to the mustard (mustard)
Lame ass, who responsible for makin you?
Phonier than a motherfucker, I can see the fake in you
I can see the Jake in you, you look like a teller (like a teller)
I ought to shoot ya dog ass, like Old Yeller (like Old Yeller)
Fly fella? Hell nah, more like half man
Half nothin else, it's so sad, I can't laugh man (man)
Or even smirk (smirk), nigga you's a jerk (jerk)
You gonna make me have to put in work and go berserk ('serk)
Wanna be me ass nigga, get off the testes ('tes)
The greatest like Gretzky, don't test me (me)
With flyin colors, I'll pass your pop quiz
I'm sick, plop, plop, fizz, fizz, you know the biz (biz)
Yeah, Big Capp, pussy
Pussy ass
Tryin to get in where you fit in, huh? (Pimp C)
Well ain't no room over here (UGK)
Bun, Bun (Young Money Moe)
II Trill West (West)
II Trill (II Trill), II Trill (II Trill), West
[Verse 1: Bun B]
Man God damn I hate a buster
Talkin about he shinin but his shit is lackluster (lackluster)
No karats in his chain, no cluster
Nigga you a burger, try to catch up to the mustard (mustard)
Lame ass, who responsible for makin you?
Phonier than a motherfucker, I can see the fake in you
I can see the Jake in you, you look like a teller (like a teller)
I ought to shoot ya dog ass, like Old Yeller (like Old Yeller)
Fly fella? Hell nah, more like half man
Half nothin else, it's so sad, I can't laugh man (man)
Or even smirk (smirk), nigga you's a jerk (jerk)
You gonna make me have to put in work and go berserk ('serk)
Wanna be me ass nigga, get off the testes ('tes)
The greatest like Gretzky, don't test me (me)
With flyin colors, I'll pass your pop quiz
I'm sick, plop, plop, fizz, fizz, you know the biz (biz)
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