Released: February 3, 2014
Featuring: Big K.R.I.T. UGK
Songwriter: Bun B Pimp C Big K.R.I.T. Big Boi
[Intro:]
Godzilla!
[Hook]
We on fire fire fire fire
Yea! We on fire fire fire fire
Yea! We on fire fire fire fire
Yea! We on fire fire fire fire
Yea! We on fire fire fire fire
Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
Niggas wanna tell it, hoes hoes wanna gossip
Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
We on
[Verse 1: Big Boi]
No introductions needed, boy just call me the undefeated
And underneath this Georgia dry I know I can’t be seen (winner)
Fire vocals because my voice was a classic
Like Coca Cola when they had cocaine in the package
I meant to say blowing the ingredients
But I went to the mall today and all the niggas had those mediums
Little bitty ass clothes
Like dancing with the stars without the judges or the dance floor
Oh and niggas don’t dance no mo
All they do is this
Beef it up, call me Venus fly chart waitin' on fly Mc' to eat em up
I’m fly, yes I can beat them weak as fuck and ain’t no keeping up
I’m balls deep and then we big in the
Fat sacks nigga, Cadillac killer
Cataract prescription filled up
I got my medicinal card from Los Angeles, the city of lost angels
A connoisseur of cannabis
I’m from Atlanta bitch, we never shop with strangers
No matter, we strain the slanging, some of the game rules done changed
Niggas is outchea talking like a cockatoo to a cop or two
Now they watchin' you and yo mama too, bird’s eye view
[Bridge: Blue Oyster Cult]
With a purposeful grimace and a terrible sound
He pulls the spitting high tension wires down
Godzilla!
[Hook:]
[Verse 2: Pimp C]
I’m getting blowed on the regular
Riding and talking dirty on my cellular
Player I got some real good that will save you some
Uh and if you my homeboy she gon give you some
And it’s all for the paper but she still gon come
You dippin' in the cookie jar, now you sprung
I have you trippin' like it’s nothing thorough
Played on my hoes, don’t talk to nobody, gon tell yo girl
(Uh, now look)
[Verse 3: Big Krit]
Okay but niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
Cus they pussy wasn’t hittin and they lip was super sloppy
Sucka duck a motherfucker, we done chop the brain about it
But my money corner pocket, plenty game ho
Slap it like a biscuit, king of diamond, king of trickin', what’s the difference
Got it poppin' like a skillet with some chicken grease in it
Country born, country paid, from the village to the grave
Worth the payment, body truckin' cus the money I already made
[Hook:]
[Verse 4: Bun B]
Man I hate that all the time I got haters in my bizz
Talking bout the trill but don’t know what the fuck it is
Mothafuckas nowadays are seriously sorry
Thinking that the key to life is putting yo business on Mari
They say you’re rockin Mari but them mothafuckas Rockport
Always talking bout you bustin nigga but your Glock short
I know the truth so ain’t no need in yo line
Bullshit ain’t workin, ain’t no need to be tryin
I’m dyin to be that nigga that’s spyin in the telescope
Prowlin with triller niggas but iron to yo dearly folk
Telling them talk tales, vibs and hung angers
Save it for Jeremy, Kyle, Steven, Jerry Springer
Buzzin like a bee, tryna sting me wit yo stinger
Bitch you could get the middle, (what middle?), the finger
Stick it in yo ass and let it linger
No homo, we give the hynel like the RnB singer Obomo
[Bridge: Blue Oyster Cult]
Godzilla!
[Hook]
We on fire fire fire fire
Yea! We on fire fire fire fire
Yea! We on fire fire fire fire
Yea! We on fire fire fire fire
Yea! We on fire fire fire fire
Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
Niggas wanna tell it, hoes hoes wanna gossip
Niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
We on
[Verse 1: Big Boi]
No introductions needed, boy just call me the undefeated
And underneath this Georgia dry I know I can’t be seen (winner)
Fire vocals because my voice was a classic
Like Coca Cola when they had cocaine in the package
I meant to say blowing the ingredients
But I went to the mall today and all the niggas had those mediums
Little bitty ass clothes
Like dancing with the stars without the judges or the dance floor
Oh and niggas don’t dance no mo
All they do is this
Beef it up, call me Venus fly chart waitin' on fly Mc' to eat em up
I’m fly, yes I can beat them weak as fuck and ain’t no keeping up
I’m balls deep and then we big in the
Fat sacks nigga, Cadillac killer
Cataract prescription filled up
I got my medicinal card from Los Angeles, the city of lost angels
A connoisseur of cannabis
I’m from Atlanta bitch, we never shop with strangers
No matter, we strain the slanging, some of the game rules done changed
Niggas is outchea talking like a cockatoo to a cop or two
Now they watchin' you and yo mama too, bird’s eye view
[Bridge: Blue Oyster Cult]
With a purposeful grimace and a terrible sound
He pulls the spitting high tension wires down
Godzilla!
[Hook:]
[Verse 2: Pimp C]
I’m getting blowed on the regular
Riding and talking dirty on my cellular
Player I got some real good that will save you some
Uh and if you my homeboy she gon give you some
And it’s all for the paper but she still gon come
You dippin' in the cookie jar, now you sprung
I have you trippin' like it’s nothing thorough
Played on my hoes, don’t talk to nobody, gon tell yo girl
(Uh, now look)
[Verse 3: Big Krit]
Okay but niggas wanna tell it, hoes wanna gossip
Cus they pussy wasn’t hittin and they lip was super sloppy
Sucka duck a motherfucker, we done chop the brain about it
But my money corner pocket, plenty game ho
Slap it like a biscuit, king of diamond, king of trickin', what’s the difference
Got it poppin' like a skillet with some chicken grease in it
Country born, country paid, from the village to the grave
Worth the payment, body truckin' cus the money I already made
[Hook:]
[Verse 4: Bun B]
Man I hate that all the time I got haters in my bizz
Talking bout the trill but don’t know what the fuck it is
Mothafuckas nowadays are seriously sorry
Thinking that the key to life is putting yo business on Mari
They say you’re rockin Mari but them mothafuckas Rockport
Always talking bout you bustin nigga but your Glock short
I know the truth so ain’t no need in yo line
Bullshit ain’t workin, ain’t no need to be tryin
I’m dyin to be that nigga that’s spyin in the telescope
Prowlin with triller niggas but iron to yo dearly folk
Telling them talk tales, vibs and hung angers
Save it for Jeremy, Kyle, Steven, Jerry Springer
Buzzin like a bee, tryna sting me wit yo stinger
Bitch you could get the middle, (what middle?), the finger
Stick it in yo ass and let it linger
No homo, we give the hynel like the RnB singer Obomo
[Bridge: Blue Oyster Cult]