Lyrics:
[D-Gotti]
Throw yo, hands in the air
Wave em side to side, like you just don't care
[Big Moe]
I wanna know, if
Y'all sip, purple potion
[D-Gotti]
Where they
identity was born
And no, this ain't a movie, dog
This is murder
(Murder, murder, murder)
And you need a second for me
Yo Gotti, I make the hits, you just
[Yo Gotti:]
Hustlas And Gangstas Dont You Pout Block Burna's Keep
The Work In The Drought Keep You A Big Gun To Hold
You Down And Deal With A Nigga
town
Strictly biz, she don't play around
Cover much grounds, got game by the pound
Getting paid is her forte
Each and every day, true player way
I
a bitch to go shopping,
She buy herself some clothes,
And she brought me back a chopper,
See niggas tryna kick it,
But no I don't play soccer,
I'm
gangsta shit
I say No Limit loud, cause we ain't scared of nobody
Organized by P or should I say, John Gotti
Real niggas, put ya guns up if ya feel me
But
that M-O-E
Chop Chop-pas
Mo-yo and the Noke-D
D-Gotti rolling with Mo-yo
D-Wreck let em know we ain't no hoe
Rolling on Chop Chop-pas
Breaking boys off
I'm like Gotti to him, I throw the shotty to him
Niggas don't want it with L, they like, "Anybody but him!"
Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, BK don't play
forces, green beret
Heavily around my throat, I don't play
Shit brand new, back in eighty-nine, the same way
The God P walk with a limp see, but simply
Pulled up fish tank
Just a bit late
Hit by mistake
I'm the trap savior
I'm a trap savior
Gotti a trap savior
Give me that price I raise it up
Thats yo
a butter knife
Oh wait, I take it back, don't wanna cause no strife
Yeah they all my boys but I wish they was my wife
Frisbee ultimo es lo que yo juego
to New York City
[Cam'Ron]
Yo, theres a war going on outside no man is safe from(word)
It don't matter if you three feet or eight-one
You'll get eight
on black mamba crown on, Bob Marley
Wrist on Yo Gotti fox
Ma' don't you call me too late for sorry
Your life like ‘The Truman Show’
Likes on your IG
That
time
And I don't be getting no airtime
Still getting play from yo b**ch
Aint making no sense I aint paying no rent
Still be taking those trips
Aint
mama
Yo Gotti, he a hall of famer drug dealer
Yo Gotti he be running around with real killers
Hush gang, he ain't fronting no fuck niggas
Big stepper,
want a five-star bitch)
Gotti, here go twelve bars, Gucci Mane got nine cars
We don't call 'em dimes no more, '09 we call 'em five stars
I'm
pushin' plenty keys
The nigga don't know me 'cause I ain't no phony
And I ain't the nigga you can whoop and call me Toby
Low key on his ass, waitin' for
a bar, this is hey, hey
Back up in the trunk with tha AK
Each line pack a Fabolous punch, no diss to Ray J
Nah, see I don't dab and I don't nae nae
Got
ah lock the town
Ah we ah hold it down (you know badmon don't play)
So don't you be no clown
You know ah we ah lock the town (lock it)
Ah we hold
Murder INC. what the fuck you think
Me and Gotti whole plan is to cover the streets
We don't want to body you man, fuck the beef
We sell a lot of these
a bitch to go shopping,
She buy herself some clothes,
And she brought me back a chopper,
See niggas tryna kick it,
But no I don't play soccer,
I'm
fade
All that nickle and dime shit, don't hold no weight
Fortune 5, top 5 in the Forbes (you'll see) as you
Thumb through the Source I read the Ride
on everything, money
Bag and the bread game
My partner and them is my partner and them
Murder one or get guap with them
I'm Yo Gotti
Can't panic, don't panic
They
play games
No we don’t allow it
They PushUp on you
& they gon’ let it shower
No we don’t play games
No we don’t allow it
(Aye Yea) (Gang)
No we
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