Lyrics:
(Intro)
Remix! (Rick Ross)
Remix! (Rick Ross)
Remix! (Rick Ross)
Chevy Ridin High Boy (Yo Gotti)
Its Rickey Ross (Rick Ross)
Mon E. G. (Mon E. G.)
Check spit that dope shit bitch I'm John gotti
Cold body I don't fear nobody
Keep that pole by me
So grimey labels won't sign me
Cause they know
a low fifth
Or By just sipping on the whole damn fifth
Eye contact, let's get it racing
Dream car so I gotta keep chasing
Pedal to the metal, no gas
Yeah, Money Mos
Yeah, n****, whatever
Yeah, bitch, it whatever
Yo Gotti you ready?
Yeah, I am
L'll never let my n**** down
Nah, I never put some
And you betta put a low jack on yo ho mane
I just call her boo
I don't know her whole name
Keep it on the low mane
All we eat is lo mien
Came from
to the north to the south
Yo Gotti gon' represent it man
No fitted man just a head band, Polo shirt and some Birdmans
Still thugged out and it ain't no secret
And you betta put a low jack on yo hoe mane
I just call her boo
I don't know her whole name
Keep it on the low mane
All we eat is lo mien
Came from
[Chorus]
[Black Child + Charli Baltimore]
My nigga Ja sold more records then a {O.G.}
Ty flyin by in 'Lac truck like a {O.G.}
And Gotti's dough's
to the north to the south
Yo Gotti gon' represent it man
No fitted man just a head band, Polo shirt and some Birdmans
Still thugged out and it ain't no secret
too slow
Them jakes on my ass, so I gotta get low
I'm just getting started, I got room to grow
And I keep a Moncler for the times when it's cold
All
[Intro: Yo Gotti]
Yeah nigga, it's whatever
Yeah bitch, it's whatever
Droptopstunna: Ey Gotti! U fuxx with Stunna?!
Yeah, I am (No homo doe)
[Verse
[Intro: Yo Gotti]
Yeah nigga, it's whatever
Yeah bitch, it's whatever
Droptopstunna: Ey Gotti! U fuxx with Stunna?!
Yeah, I am (No homo doe)
[Verse
[Intro: Yo Gotti]
Yeah nigga, it's whatever
Yeah bitch, it's whatever
Droptopstunna: Ey Gotti! U fuxx with Stunna?!
Yeah, I am (No homo doe)
[Verse
in the ville how I go by it
I was stuck in a rut, I was nobody
I been looking for something to go body
There's an art to the hustle like Yo Gotti
Kick
couple of guns
The funds wasn't the issue, it was other shit
That had me flippin' on my brother's shit
Stealin' from my mother's shit
Cry by myself, I
[Chorus]
[Black Child + Charli Baltimore]
My nigga Ja sold more records then a {O.G.}
Ty flyin by in 'Lac truck like a {O.G.}
And Gotti's dough's
Yo Gotti
Yeah nigga, its whatever
Yeah bitch, it's whatever
Yeah, I am
I'll never let my niggas down
Nah, I never put some choppas down
Hit your
on business we don't talk about it
Keep my pocket rocket for a pussy
How are you feeling ? oh, I'm feeling goodie
Open my blunt then I sprinkle in Cookie
I got
by a race of Jews and the Lizards control them too
And it's run by some black dude
I'm in love with Yo Gotti
I'm in charge of the Club now too
it
What the f***?
There ain't nothin'
Else to be said
[Gotti]
Yo, I got a empire with niggas
With thug in they blood
I admire them niggas
My
[verse 1]
First of all yo gotti represent every thug
Went to school graduated operated with drugs
Had knowledge went to college fucking bitches
(*talking*)
D-Gotti I'm home baby, we here to party
Bar better keep watching, they lil' mama twat
Cause we ain't turning down nothing, but our
buyin these hoes
Need to imitate Gotti start lyin to these hoes
Tossin these hoes
Never ever flossin these hoes
You know how it go
Two thangs I ain't seen
to say that new song
by Phats, Kurupt, the R.O.C.- it's off the hook baby. Keep banging it
[Radio DJ]
WBALLS, WBALLS, WBALLS
What more can we have
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