Lyrics:
Shit be sick
Streets fucked up
Yeah
They like, "Gotti, don't do it"
But I already did, G shit
This the era of the slimes when niggas made it fine
Niggas watching what i say on internet they trolling me. Not bothered by it
Cuse that shit is really old to me.
Shake and bake like Ricky Bobby
(Shake
Already,
Know what I'm sayin' this Birdman and this how it's goin' down,
That little youngin' Yo Gotti I certified him stamped approval
wear what its funny how they stare dumb bunnies with they cunnin little
Glare shorty let me see the tail if its really that shittin she hit me with
that time just for
Our color
Foe Way what's up foe way uh huh
Foe Way what's up
I'm a set it off in this mothafucka
Foe Way what's up foe Way uh huh
Foe
better not feel threatened
He was pussy, wet him, I'm protected
That's my contraceptive
Nigga, what you tryna do?
It's already come down to
When they
niggas wit it, wit it, WB bitch
It's a World War Three nigga, fuckin' wit Gotti boy
I'm bout to separate yo soul from yo body boy
I got that chopper boy,
of shit that made me crazy)
What made me crazy?
When my elders taught me the holy ghost
Waitin' from a kid to see it, now I look on my Rollie nope
Gotti and that Boosie and that Jeezy (and that Jeezy)
Self-made millionaire, a dollar didn't come easy (a dollar didn't come easy)
Servin' J's, runnin'
didn't have shit to roll?
Maybe they will, maybe they won't
Who is to say what a nigga will do
Who is to say if you help someone it's guaranteed that
she was on a nigga airtight
It won't no what's up it won't no hug I shook my head twice
You thinking we bros you broke the code I found yo hoe and bent
get money now
Chek and Gotti they know that we run it now
We do real numbers real chef Benihana's
I'll take a nigga under
Watch three-hundred these
[Intro: N.O.R.E.]
Yeah niggas, yeah
Uhhh, that's what I'm talkin 'bout right here niggas
That's what I'm talkin 'bout right here Gotti
This what
love my voice
Of course, full-force, I done made it now
[Yo Gotti]
I feel like you can't stop me now
I'm tighter now
More of a writer now
Than a rapper
the trap" (it's ya boy Yo Gotti)
I have wet dreams 'bout my kitchen, I got trust issues with my bitches
Every gun inside my city, it got switches, I'm not
kitchen lookin' like I broke in (haha, ah)
Yo, it's a shame what we did to the highway
Even worse if we made it there safe when we pulled in
Already,
Know what I'm sayin' this Birdman and this how it's goin' down,
That little youngin' Yo Gotti I certified him stamped approval
on
The Westside nigga
We ballers for real
[Kurupt]
For real I got it bought you the blue steel
Cowards hit the panic button
Thinkin' that it was what it
look like you're in another world
But I can read your mind
How can you be so far away lying by my side
Things ain't always what they seem
Or cracked up
who flip birds
And hug the block, in club they Cris and twist the bud, nigga what
We live it up, from Chi-town to my town
We diggin sluts, long
too popped if yo ass 2 Pac
Cargos with the 12 gauge shotty in it
Plus I still got a crib on Brazil
I ain't never holly that but I
Got a Maserati in it
gettin' me anxious
To speak for my defendants, that say that they plaintive
Guess we guilty by song, but yo the government must be on
(Exodus)
I mean
didn't have shit to roll?
Maybe they will, maybe they won't
Who is to say what a nigga will do
Who is to say if you help someone it's guaranteed that
fuckin’ friends either
When they not even supporting then what the hell is the difference between a friend or foe?
I don’t know man, everybody say that they
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