Lyrics:
And yo, for real, that nigga K can suck my dick
And it's gon' take all these niggas in the rap game to barely move me
'Cause when I blow shit up, I have
you was real
When we started something small
Niggas flockin in your dms
And they don’t know how to talk
I gotta talk to em (Gotta talk to em)
Know
(DJ Clue)
The Professional
Part Two
Coming real soon!
New shit! Crime life!
Memph Bleek!
Cease!
Ja!
(Memphis Bleek)
Nigga, picture me hot, then
Yo, it's the real drama kills, nobody moves, stand still
Bottle you drop that ass off in a land fill
Son bless me with the iron, I got beef
With some
of the hood (Uhh)
Lets talk about blocks we was bending
Lets talk about shots my young niggas sending
(Heyy)
Ptsd so I cant think clearly really my head been
Gotti Go
Get in that car and go vroom, don't give a fuck about no red light
Like what I'm gon do when I'm just tryna get my head right?
If I pull out
deep back
And Ridge Crest with my seat back with Yo Gotti and E-Mack
And these niggas got them diamonds glowin' in they mouth
And they rockin' furs
(DJ Clue)
The Professional
Part Two
Coming real soon!
New shit! Crime life!
Memph Bleek!
Cease!
Ja!
(Memphis Bleek)
Nigga, picture me hot,
on pork
Kurupt the world's fetish
They feen and scratch
I'm multiplied by twenty thousand
Fiends and crack
You add me to music and the fiends react
You ain't got no will, you ain't got no bottle
Let's just be honest, let's just be real
You ain't got no cash, you ain't got no dollas
You stay with
Kurupt, Young Gotti
I'm fuckin somethin' in this bitch, hit em with some gangsta shit
Put somethin' in your mouth bitch real tasty
I'm lookin' real
Stomping in the party
Kurupt, Young Gotti
I'm fucking something in this bitch
Hit 'em with some gangsta shit
Put something in your mouth bitch real tasty
I'm
trash, get in that bag
Snuggle up or hop yo ass right in
That box like double dutch
You can't fuck wit' us
I say "us" talkin' everybody that's
Real with
So I sold it for the kid, know what I'm sayin'?
Right here, white top, yo, yo, hold on
I'ma go talk to this cat
Yo, kid, what up Sparks? What up?
So I sold it for the kid, know what I'm sayin'?
Right here, white top, yo, yo, hold on
I'ma go talk to this cat
Yo, kid, what up Sparks? What up?
I'm sittin' at the table countin' my money
Ain't where I wanna be but I got a few hundreds
A lot of talk on the streets like a nigga crossin' me
bitch, nigga
Real talk
Ain't that a bitch, nigga
No flops
We got a hit nigga,
So hot
So hot, so hot
I think I'm feeling rain drops
So hot, so hot
I think
A.k.a. De La, a.k.a. The Plugs
We're about to get in this song, "Church"
A.k.a. "it's Reality"!
Hey yo, wake up!
Wipe the sleep from ya eye cracks
the wack, who tryin to bite my style
Take yo ass to da old school
And part your fuckin' eyebrows
I comin' through to
About to get set
So act like WU
talk)
Talkin that talk (Talkin that shit)
Talkin that talk (Watch yo lip)
Talk yo talk then (Get the gwap)
Talk yo talk (Talkie talk)
Talk yo talk then
[Conversation]:
Keep everything on
Blaze always
Nigga this only nineteen thousand
(yo check this shit out)
I want my thousand dollars now
I
wit it , I’m wit it
They know I don’t need nobody
They can get cropped out the picture
I rake it up like yo gotti
I don’t need no one
I don’t need i
Aye
Lil' Haitian Gotti Like that there, yeah yeah
Haha
I got them, mmm
I ain’t regular, bitch I’m steppin up, with the weapon tucked (I’m a special
shit
To that trash, that they talk
'Cause She don't know about it
Well Bae, you welcome to my home party
Bring yo friend, Bring moma
We gone throw it
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