Lyrics:
clique's lookin lavish in upscale casino style
Flexin muscles like a Gotti trial
Yellow case get shook by the court with the judge
You should know a pimp,
can put your hands up
But it don't stands up
So bring your mans up
Anybody, yo, I shot em with the shotie
Word to Gotti, I need a puddy
I'm shittin, my
your gat, I can relate to that
If you sell coke or crack I relate to that
When its yo' turn to blow there ain't no turning back
It seem like in
four or five bandanas on
Tony Montana in they songs, living like John Gotti
But you check they background, they never shot nobody
They claim they from
to reveal
Why you are my sunshine
FLY!
Maybe we could dip to the yams
Take a dip in the water leave footprints in the sand
Been on lockdown long enough its
R.I.P to Yams
Crazy how the flow sounding different already
Oh, I'm keeping it G and she keeping it sexy
But them boys in the hood thinking they ready
four or five bandanas on
Tony Montana in they songs, living like John Gotti
But you check they background, they never shot nobody
They claim they from
true-to-life killas, killas
We takin' Other People Money, they money
And then we buyin' all the cars, the cars
Man bump 'em on chrome, chrome
Besides that yo
you white of black
If you bust your gat, I can relate to that
If you sell coke or crack I relate to that
When its yo' turn to blow there ain't no
weak shit, yo
You're weak, you're wack, you need to quit you lil punk bitch
Go and freak your mother, go dig a damn ditch
Get out my face, I'm tired
Ghidra has arrived, you guys could take five
By the time it's over, no snakes alive
Take the dive, I'm tellin' you, you better off
Then up against
he could see through all their schemes and their games
Unaffected by all the yam
Even Kendrick agrees it
Something 'bout bitches and beaches
Makes
chow
House by the Canal what you drop for it
Other People’s Money what you got for us
I eat beats like beef ribs, collard greens
And yams hit my Fred
Good Morning
My rent ain't paid but I'm alive y'all that's okay
I had my Ipod on shuffle, I heard one of my lines
I said I'm like Gotti, Ghandi
was holding bong hits.
chorus – like mahatma gandhi followed by a horde of hotties or the feds on the trail of a
mr. john gotti, I'm a sound wave
love, I could see the eyes up above
watchin, waitin for me to slip
lose grip, opposition got me on their list
I get freshed by Jase
he threw all the fakes
lil bitch show stopping
they wanna pic no flockin (free kodak)
we getting rich no stopping (you know that)
i got that sack yo gotti
stretch your lil
could be godly
In a world so dominated by sin
And thin hotties with rims tell 'em then
If-If you got it
See i ain't Irv Gotti
But that murder incorporate
Yo Gotti in the stu with me
This shit lowkey sound like that shef g shit
That tip toe shit
Hell no
We go pop fa pop
I'm fucking thot after thot
scuba divin'
This nina fuckin' everybody, put the coochie on 'em
Kamikaze thoughts but the doors are suicidal
If Rami did yo' pieces why you always
a body
These hoes Doin 2 Much I'm like Yo Gotti
Wrist sore wrist cold that's goals hockey
Big guns fat pockets I look mad stocky
I gets in that ass word
Ovde se gradove, ovde se gradovi, ovde se gradovi
I woke up this morning and the sky was as blue
As the Adriatic by which i slept so peacefully
So
[ VERSE 1 ]
I'm a young gifted and black mack, rap sweet like candy yams
And I make you put your fist up to your mouth and say, "Goddamn!"
Boy, I got
find your hood again
Who is that in the car? yo couldn't be
All the way out here, yeah Nicki t
Russian, get the weed sparked
Get the party started
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