Lyrics:
car's white
Motherfuck a hater, I done lived a hard life
I'm swanging out my building
Trying to raise my children
Top got no ceiling, Yo Gotti
Nigga Meek
ricotta, we need it for the manicotti
Keep singing like a fucking bird, you gon' end up like Gotti
Time to pay the Piper like Rowdy, sativa scented so loudy
The redeemed of the streets
That used to cling to the streets
Till we saw our thirst wasn't quenched
By the scene of the streets
Ay this ain't aimed
Gucci Bag, yah yah
Louis Bag, yah yah
New supreme, yah yah
cll in red, yah yah
Squad full of goons yah, leave yo body dead yah
Bags full of xan yah,
lavish, in the kitchen whippin' magic (bad, bad)
Yo Gotti, 2 Chainz
Bad bitches, bad habits
We got London on da Track
Yeah
I ain't asked nan' nigga
die-ie
Oh, my life
Is in His hands, so I don't stress, I pray and strategize
Yo, flushed the work just in time and they raided
Thank God (thank God)
die-ie
Oh, oh, all my life, yeah
Is in His hands, so I don't stress, I pray and strategize
Yo, flushed the work just in time and they raided
Thank
Yo, M-O-B-B D-E-E-P motherfucker, word up
Q-borough, mad thorough
All my live niggas, check it, check it
Nobody close to they toes, so chill
Nobody
you’ll get drug nigga
Tie you by yo feet
Hang yo body from a truck nigga
Riding round the city till we think you had enough nigga
Walking round with cold
off until everybody's gone
All Star homey, keep a hell of a price
Cash money still a army and I earn my stripes
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Yo Gotti
Nine o' nine on mine
Run my city full time
In my city full time
And on the grind full time
Nine o' nine on mine
Run my city full time
In my city
or da worse
Raised by streets but Sylvia had gave me birth
Gotta see my name in lights b4 they put it on a shirt
Gotta pull up Bentley truck b4 I go out
yo
Regardless of rain or snow, sleet or hail
I kick street tales choking niggas like I'm Sprewell
Golden state, holding your fate in the palm
time Gotti got
(What! What! What! What!)
Yo, yo
Ay yo, there's two ways into the hood, one plane
The other smoke chronic like straight
What it do doc
This ya boy yo gotti
You know I'm affiliated with them affiliates
And this is gangsta shit
Gloc forty, dope money make my pants
full of money
You can never save the world with a rebellions mind
You capping if you ever say yo shit better than mine
I put everything in this
I'm
chest full of 12 4-pound rounds
nigga lay down, kid you assed out now
[Havoc]
no doubt, the infamous reppin' up in this
know what i'm sayin'
next up
male, the highest priest
Step into the club, niggaz be like, PEACE
I got respect, every time I hit the street
If you don't like me, good, fuck with
Know why I sound so raw, 'cause I'm down by law
Try to play me 'cause I'm rappin', I will break yo' jaw
Catch a nigga in these streets, make you
in my hood, slangin' that white
Shirt on right, no ? on sight
Hundred I shoot, hundred I hit,
Five hundred ? nigga this my life
Yo Gotti don't shit
hardcore street team crash the party with Def Jam
And incorporate murda like Gotti
How about in back of the yellow cab like Seinfeld
Chew you like
we gonna lay up And leave them in the streets
We know you love these beats Pro stream by any means
Together, two of the greatest things You heard
Yo nahmsayin?
Yeah she'll take you out too kid
Take this shit out
A rainy day laid up thinkin' sittin' gettin' bent
Watchin' old seventy
What it do doc
This ya boy yo gotti
You know I'm affiliated with them affiliates
And this is gangsta shit
Gloc forty, dope money make my pants
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