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lirik lagu go in – lil foolie

[intro: fbg duck]
turn up
let’s get it, heh (woo, woo, woo, woo)
heh, turn up, turn up
turn up, turn up, woo, woo

[verse 1: fbg duck & king lil jay]
look, this rapping sh*t ain’t for you boys, who the f*ck let y’all in?
you know i’m a paper chaser, so i stack that tall then
they say they be balling, i’m gon’ show these n*ggas how to ball then
your girlfriend keep on calling ’cause she know i’m balling like [?] and spaulding
why they tryna play with me?
say what you got to say to me
this is the zoo, them apes with me
my fingers itch, ben frank disease
don’t got time for lames, leave
you doing the same thing
i just c*ck and aim things
that trigger is my main squeeze
f*ck around and get shot, n*gga
pull up on your block, n*gga
a hundred shots, n*gga
find out that window and watch you drop, n*gga
you can catch me on st. lawrence or in minnesota with some real n*ggas
you f*ck around with them real n*ggas, you gon’ get barbecue grilled, n*gga
we ain’t playing no games, we not no lames, shout out to the gang
that’s my bro ’nem and i’ll blow for them ’cause they tote for me and i tote for them (double*0, lil’ ho, let’s get it)
f*cking around with us, n*gga, yes, my name is duck, n*gga (double*0)
you f*ck around with my broski ‘nem and you gon’ get shot up, n*gga, turn up
[verse 2: king lil jay & lil foolie]
all i know is check a b*a*g, i’m tryna reach the t*o*p
’til i reach the e*n*d, i guess that’s when i d*i*e
yeah, my clique is fbg, attracted to t*h*o*ts
we don’t f*ck with o*p*ps, we shoot until our gun on e
stl and ebt, screamin’ out g*a*n*g
shout out broski number 3, shout out dutchie
team no lackin’, b*tch, i got h*e*a*t, and you know it’s on m*e
and you never on safety for goofies that h*a*t*e
you n*ggas ain’t real, you n*ggas f*a*k*e
you n*ggas is sweet, i eat you like c*a*k*e
got my gun on me, we going on a d*a*t*e
make your b*tch b*u*s*t (lil foolie), let the opposition d*e*a*d, let’s get it

[verse 3: lil foolie]
got two [?] in the four seater
when i pull up, it’s no speaking
my mac c*cked, so the pole squeezing
all headshots, leave folks leaking
my money long like four bleachers
times four more, yours ain’t reaching
with lil jay and duck, creeping
we shoot you for no reason
off a couple bars, so you know i’m leaning
[?], i’m a walking demon
free all the guys, it is no squeaking
don’t do rats, we straight cheesing
i’m a hitman, get your clique hit
aim real high, so i won’t miss
he a sweet stain, then we poke sh*t
bands on bands, i blow sh*t
off keshia cole, we smoke p*ss
cross my team at your risk
one wrong move, then my gun spit
my body count like one*six

- lil foolie

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