Lyrics:
busy daddy's writing a song
This song ain't gonna write it'self
I'll give you one underdog then
You gotta swing by yourself
Then turn right around in
me, nigga)
It's been ten long years (yo)
You can not retire me (listen)
On the corner ready to bo', holding my nuts
Standing by my building,
better not play wit us
(Prince Hill Verse)
Yeah you better not play with us
We would ride thru your block just to spray it up
These Niggas think cause
social distant, hoes like, "When you not trippin'?"
I duck the party, who said they saw me?
Crown on Bob Marley, wrist on Yo Gotti
They gon' judge your
you dig it?
You fed you dead see red
My lead yo head I fed
Like you shit
I got rhymes push that shit like weight
My nigga Lincoln help me
this shit is not a hobby
Why is it the credit that they always try to rob me
It's R.I.P. Dolph, when the fuck they gettin' Gotti
If I up a stick, nigga
things that i done learned
Like how the universe ain't knockin you it just ain't yo turn
Sometimes you gotta look around and see the options you earned
time is near, so get your body dropped off
I stopped trustin niggaz since Gotti got caught
It's Bricks keep your wrist covered, or piss colored
By
fucking merked by some lame
Heard he got it in the Range nigga Caine popped one in his brain
Over some-thang, took his watch and his chain
Country boys
niggas yell squad
K Camp screaming link up
300 niggas, that's 300 motherfuckers
Trying to get it in by the trucks
I'm a hot young nigga that'll take your
yo' ass up
You know where we comin' from
Death Row! BIATCH! Ha ha hahaha!
A yo, Kurupt, you first to blast, nigga
And you know how we do it
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
bitch ass nggas
As I hold my rifle
Black Roses
Radio
Watch it cuz I paint
Shots inside yo frame
Running with my dogs Kill dat bitch I'm inhumane
No opps
gon' hit yo' ass up.
You know where we comin' from
Death Row bitch Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
quicker then punts
Im sick of you punks
Cock it back now Im upset
Yo' niggas next
Im blowing smoke outta ya chest when it connect
Creepin like insects
never leave
[Nas]
Murder Inc. Y'all
[Ja Rule]
Its Murdah - N*****
[Nas]
It's over now - get on that right
[Nas]
Irv Gotti - Ill Will Baby
[Ashanti]
crib and he's Scotty in it
Bath tub big enough to fit a Audi in it
8 gold chains like it's already in it
Murder with the ink, I'm Gotti in it
Don't get
Yo, check it yo, I got slugs for snitches
No love for bitches puttin thugs in ditches
When my trigger finger itches
I got a rep that make police jet
pull out the shotty
Causin' permanent damage to they bodies
We niggas like Gotti, takin' it to the extreme
Doin' whatever it takes, nigga
By any means,
I'll sale something
Don't tell niggas business they a tell something
Slid by yo lil bitch heard her yell something
Slut head wouldn't shit she a fail
Threw switches on this blick
But, when he blick 'em, they be glitchin'
Be discrete an keep yo' distance
When it get greasy you can't fix it
Don't be
Yo, the saga begins, begin war
I draw first blood, be the first to set it off
My cause, tap all jaws, lay down laws
We takin' what's yours, we do
you dig it?
You fed you dead see red
My lead yo head I fed
Like you shit
I got rhymes push that shit like weight
My nigga Lincoln help me
a thousand-five cannons
Nigga gettin' it on
Peep out the window, I was solo flashin'in the streets
Caught by cops
I'm tell them bring some extra tape and plenty
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