Get Away lyrics

[Intro: Young Buck & Kidd Kidd]
Kidd Kidd, what up, n*gga?
What's good with it, Buck?
I went to 50, I said, "Look, n*gga, I'm in these streets for real, man, I gotta get away from this sh*t, n*gga"
You already know he was a street n*gga so he feel that
He gon' get a n*gga wigged, dog, tell him to get the f*ck—
Let's get this money

[Chorus: Young Buck & Kidd Kidd]
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
[Verse 1: Young Buck]
Even in the hood we be shooting all day
Got dead souls walking through the project hallways
Seen a dead body laid next door of where I stay
Couldn't do nothing 'bout it, just walked away
My n*gga Tray just lost his youngest son
He bought a knife but the other one bought a gun
He got life for the stupid, dumb sh*t he done
We popping n*ggas now just for fun
I got bullet holes in my car do'
n*gga ran off but he didn't get far though
Whole clip dumping out the fully auto
Got a good grip, I'ma hit my target
You done let this sh*t get started
Knowing damn well that I get retarded
Pull up in this b*tch, didn't even park
I just hopped out, emptied my cartridge
Caught another case and beat my charges
Gun conviction but I keep it regardless
And my hands itching, a young n*gga starvin'
Paint my picture, I guess I'm an artist
I really wanna leave but I feel like I'm missin' somethin'
You could find me posted up, twistin' somethin'
f*cking with the work, n*gga gettin' somethin'
I'm hanging out the window, hittin' somethin', I gotta
[Chorus: Young Buck & Kidd Kidd]
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away

[Verse 2: Kidd Kidd]
It was me, [?], Marlo
No book bag, had a bag full of dope
Gotta move fast, one time, creep slow
No telling what I would've did for the dough
Watching my neck ‘cause they playing cutthroat
Can't go home, they just kicked in the do'
I don't know who it was but I know somebody told, bang!
Hope it ain't nobody I know, shh
Just another n*gga out that nine
Never go nowhere without my nine
Really, I'm out my mind
Paranoid, I've been hit six times
And only Lord knows
I need head like [?]
I've sinned, amen
Thought I saw Mike at the crossroads
Tryna drop my past
Never know what the future holds
When you're nothing but a hoodlum
Going up against the soldiers
Street James Brown, man's in my soul
Ten years old, I was in a man's world
Never did what I was told, only done what I was showed
Daddy selling crack so that's what I sold
[Chorus: Young Buck & Kidd Kidd]
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, get away now
Get away, get away, gotta get away

[Outro: Kidd Kidd & Young Buck]
Ya know what I'm saying, my n*gga?
Gotta get the f*ck - a n*gga gotta go to France or something
I know, I know you still got them passports
Hell yeah, ay honestly, my n*gga
I probably done ran through fifteen passports, my n*gga
Real talk, no bullsh*t
n*gga, I'm still on my second one, ye heard me?
Don't trip, my n*gga, we getting the numbers up
Really though, really though
They know what it is
You gotta come though, Buck, I know you're a convicted felon and all that, ya heard me?
But n*gga, let me in
Matter of fact, Canada, let me in that motherf*cker
Canada, let me in
When you got that bread, they gon' let you through customs, believe that
Yeah, hell yeah, one thing we do got, we got money
Oh yeah
Yeah, we got money
We got money now
Shout out to 50
50, what up, n*gga? Real sh*t, this sh*t crazy though
Talking 'bout money
Real n*ggas getting in the do'
See when real n*ggas get in the do', you know what they do?
They put they feet in the middle of that b*tch so the do' can't close
And then we bring more n*ggas, the right n*ggas through
We bring the right n*ggas with us
The f*ck n*gga, we leave the f*ck n*gga on the side of the road
Looking like the God damn, uh
One of them motherf*ckers that be like, "Can I catch a ride?"