Go (Gas) lyrics

[Intro: Wiz Khalifa]
f*ckin' put on a wrong head-- pair of headphones and sh*t, uh

[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa & Tyler, The Creator]
Just took ten shots and I ain't pass out
Spent a hundred grand and I ain't cash out
If you smoking OG, bring the grass out
These n*ggas filled up, bring the gas out
Talkin' bout some sh*t that you know you stole
I have my f*ckin' way with this game, no remote control
Drinking on some gin cause I like alcohol
How the f*ck you sposed to win, you don't know how to ball
Turnt up but still smoking
Tryna drive but my eyes barely open
See the cars, see the watch, see I done moved up
In my condo smoking out watching True Blood
Tryna take Taco to the strip club
Tryna take Tyler to the dealer bruh (I'm right here guys!)
Tryna take Domo to the weed spot
True pothead so I need pot

[Chorus: Tyler, the Creator & Wiz Khalifa]
Go, I'm so f*ckin loaded
Pockets and the smoke and all the b*tches
Tell em
Go, faded and I'm floatin
I hope your lungs is open
All the b*tches, tell em, go
Now I been around the world before
But I never thought it'd be this way
And I smoked up all this weed before
But I never thought it'd feel this way
And all the b*tches be like, "Yeah"
[Verse 2: Domo Genesis]
Celebration shots got me really faded
Kind of famous, enough to laugh like I really made it
Drunk enough to stir some controversy, b*tch let's f*cking tape it
I feel amazing, making digits off my f*cking cadence
Suck a di*k, hater while I selfie with the Eiffel Tower
Five star general, the Odd Future I'm Eisenhower
Said I couldn't make it, I show you n*ggas to fight the power
Igniting sour, watching Chowder in my finest hour
A clearer mix of acid jazz and blue grass
n*ggas still stuck in the past, opening new scabs
Me and Wiz matching bottles n*gga, open two tabs
Stumbling out with six models, my n*gga order two cabs
We ain't worried bout rivals, them n*ggas too trash
f*ck what n*ggas think, I'm the illest one in the new class
And I don't give a f*ck what n*ggas ain't f*ckin' with
OFWG run with the team or suck a di*k

[Chorus: Tyler, the Creator & Wiz Khalifa]
Go, I'm so f*ckin loaded
Pockets and the smoke and all the b*tches
Tell em
Go, faded and I'm floatin
I hope your lungs is open
All the b*tches, tell em, go
Now I been around the world before
But I never thought it'd be this way
And I smoked up all this weed before
But I never thought it'd feel this way
And all the b*tches be like, "Yeah"
[Bridge: Tyler, the Creator]
Guitars sound like some Kill Bill sh*t, watch it
That's that church tambourine sh*t
My grandma used to play that
n*gga
Golf Wang

[Verse 3: Juicy J]
(Turn up) Yessir
I got old money, I got new money
Put 'em together, I got huge money
Bank teller call my phone, she tell me I'm putting on
Twenty years of success, let's toast to the best
Sip on some ace then I pour out the rest
f*ck b*tches, get ends
Drink gin, f*ck their friends
Juicy J three hoes in a white on white Benz
I stay sipping codeine
Blue dream I'm rolling up
Looking for a b*tch with bank statements like Oprah
These black diamonds racist, Louis V no laces
My plug on call coming straight up out the basement
All I know is money, it don't look like you
One shot from the chopper make you look like two

[Outro: Tyler, the Creator]
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go