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Get Ugly Video (MV)




Performed By: Big Dev
Language: English
Length: 2:17
Written by: Devin Adams




Big Dev - Get Ugly Lyrics
Official




I'm from the home of sipping purple, yellow, green, murder, Mardi Gras
Tried to take the lead, nigga was green, I can't follow y'all
Lean on the wood of the weed, I don't bother y'all
Heavy in that water with Woody, shit can get waterlogged
The time ain't hit him till he seen his baby crying
Death ain't faze him till he seen his man dying
Glocks don't trade em, nigga, snake, they be slime
The block gone praise him, he been putting in overtime
And you gotta bring more than a mouth to this table
Never Kane my brother, majority of them ain't able
Weon recruit the other side, they bitches, they ain't stable
And we don't believe in lies, tall tales, all fables
Ain't no straightening never touch, pressed or checked
Real field steppa, put a cleat where his neck
Somebody tell Jack I'm the king of this deck
January, February, been Marched for this set
Real field, steppa, put a cleat where his neck
Somebody tell Jack I'm the king of this deck
Real field, steppa, put a cleat with his neck
January, February, been Marched for this set
And I don't trap, just be in and out of shit
The only nigga in the trap who can get in and out of it
I'm the artist, got me feeling like Picasso
Hood wholesale, 2900, Costco
Shoot out back and forth on back streets, get low
Played ball, them bullets fast, don't be slow
And its forever big khunt gang, cause we miss bro
Goddamn, we miss bro, and thats fa shit sho
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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I'm from the home of sipping purple, yellow, green, murder, Mardi Gras
Tried to take the lead, nigga was green, I can't follow y'all
Lean on the wood of the weed, I don't bother y'all
Heavy in that water with Woody, shit can get waterlogged
The time ain't hit him till he seen his baby crying
Death ain't faze him till he seen his man dying
Glocks don't trade em, nigga, snake, they be slime
The block gone praise him, he been putting in overtime
And you gotta bring more than a mouth to this table
Never Kane my brother, majority of them ain't able
Weon recruit the other side, they bitches, they ain't stable
And we don't believe in lies, tall tales, all fables
Ain't no straightening never touch, pressed or checked
Real field steppa, put a cleat where his neck
Somebody tell Jack I'm the king of this deck
January, February, been Marched for this set
Real field, steppa, put a cleat where his neck
Somebody tell Jack I'm the king of this deck
Real field, steppa, put a cleat with his neck
January, February, been Marched for this set
And I don't trap, just be in and out of shit
The only nigga in the trap who can get in and out of it
I'm the artist, got me feeling like Picasso
Hood wholesale, 2900, Costco
Shoot out back and forth on back streets, get low
Played ball, them bullets fast, don't be slow
And its forever big khunt gang, cause we miss bro
Goddamn, we miss bro, and thats fa shit sho
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Devin Adams
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Big Dev

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