Lyrics:
momma
Yo Gotti, he a hall of fame drug dealer
Yo Gotti, he be running round with real killers
Hush gang, he be frontin' on fuck n***as
Big stepper. we
I want a five-star bitch (yeah, Yo Gotti)
It's your boy Yo Gotti, I do grade A shit
I'm the realest nigga walkin', and this the remix (Yo Gotti
yams
I touch a hunnid yams I hit the money dance
When I touch a hunnid bands I'll do the money dance
I doing me I got options I'm not yo man
I'm hopin
the money
That's sweet, sweet love
Don't try it and even put some strychnine
Listen to the pronunciation of strychnine in this cool-Aid
This ain't no Jim
the money
That's sweet, sweet love
Don't try it and even put some strychnine
Listen to the pronunciation of strychnine in this cool-Aid
This ain't no Jim
strap, that's my peace offering (Yo, yo, yo, yeah uh yeah ooh)
Five shots get rung out, five bodies falling
Come put your lights out, I spark your
strap, that's my peace offering (Yo, yo, yo, yeah uh yeah ooh)
Five shots get rung out, five bodies falling
Come put your lights out, I spark your
said hey yo sonny first of all gimme my money
Some much money we gettin' it ain't even funny
Little corny niggas be tryin' take my money from me
When
Yeah! (Ooh!)
Get Money (Get Money)
Get Money (Get Money) Get Money
Get Money (Get Money)
Get Money (Get Money) Get Money
All good money ain't good
(Come on and get up, oh, party, yeah)
This ya boy Yo Gotti
Street Tunes Productions
We gon' ask everybody to stand up on this one
D Boys, this
shit
GOTTI:
Pimp gotti get da dues in them double down like them kids wit tips who tops
Down bricks who get money quick see me representin bomb city
crazy in this world, you know what I'm sayin'
True ting, you ah talk, dawg (check it deep)
Yo, the crazy adventures of Miss Money Jane (crazy ting)
I want a five-star bitch (yeah, Yo Gotti)
It's your boy Yo Gotti, I do grade A shit
I'm the realest nigga walkin', and this the remix (Yo Gotti
for the money yo
Them can’t live life without money money
All honey want is money money
Want cook food and you want yard clean clean
Work and sweat for
the money didn't Matter
Ain't no Jon gotti but my Johnson is dapper
In my 97 bumping After da Kappa
This the type of shit that she be Downloadin from Napster
paper so I start my day off right
They call me Cocaine Gotti, and it's money over bitches
Mr. Everything White, he be always in the kitchen
enough money, bring Hammer back
Karate chopped that Miley Cyrus
Nigga, don't make me go and dress yo' stylist
Broke brick, dope fiends
Wrapped up,
the cream is (right) , that's where your dream is (well ain't it?)
You're only a customer (uh)
Walkin' in the presence of hustlers
You spend money all
heaven
[Chorus x2: DJ Rogers & Puff]
What young thugs do for money
What young thugs do for money
[La the Darkman]
Yo, niggaz
coro con Yo Gotti
Con French Montana y con P Diddy
De to esa mami el sugar daddy (amen)
70 mil en el gogo
50 en cada party
Yo me crie en la calle (aight)
Look at my fucking dead presidents
Sending me decoys with marked
Money frontin' yo
What you need G? Nah, I ain't got nuttin'
"I say no to drugs"
Is what
Supercharge all of my cars, and I'm goin' to Mars
And this money ain't changed (Mars)
Took off my top, I'm exposin' the brains
I got young niggas ready
6-pack de Modelo's
Ve juntando ese menudo
Pa comprar el traje de bombero
Ya que cuando suelto rimas
No quemo yo te incinero
Frío con los peloteros
Y ya ni
these delusion
But you can't break my passion
In Christ I hide please CAUTION!
I gotti Holy-Ghost in my body
And God blessed me full of money
You see me
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