Lyrics:
Product stretch
I got it mastered man
In the hood I'm like plastic man!
Stretch
Fantastic man,
I make the money come faster man!
Yeah
I'm the dope
MONEY, MONEY & POWER Sower, got me coughing about a hour Bad Bitch, counting money yea she so lit
Oh shit, PDF back spitting that dope shit
I’m
She wanna dope boy, dope, dope boy
She wanna dope boy, dope, dope boy
She wanna dope boy, dope, dope boy
Hey yo, big Bern', what's good?
We ain't get
who gon' tell yo mother, her baby's under a cover in the morgue
Stiff as a log, sniffed out by the dogs
Son of a hard headed nigga that wouldn't
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
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 in
explode
Where Brooklyn at?
Yo, BK don't play
Harlem World
Where niggas get the money all day
Boogie Down Bronx, specialize in gunplay
Triboro, so
The Money's on the way
The dope's on the way
The bricks's on the way
Go crazy bout this cake
The Money's on the way
The dope's on the way
a play, I'm right there where they needed me
I been makin' boss friend niggas, that's the G in me (that's the G in me)
"Gotti don't bring yo' gun in this
What it do doc
This ya boy yo gotti
You know I'm affiliated with them affiliates
And this is gangsta shit
Dope money Gloc 40, make my pance
a million offa users.
Car and the money the same color of mucous,
Go get it his self they call 'em ghetto Frank Lucas.
Cocaine,
He got it by the boulder,
outta the fire
We dope boys I got boys that spray ya city block
Ain't got no fuck boys on my squad we only run it up
Bitch get yo money up yo money up
find you in a ditch
This dope ain't yo dope
And these cuts and yo cuts
Yo, but this is my 12 gauge in yo muthafuckin guts
Don't make me pump this
wit my dawg, he got a 4, and it might spark
Money machine, I'm on the beat, I'm living large
Limousine nigga
Shorty food for the night, yeah she cuisine
doomed
Ain't no comin back, livin in the dope game
Cause once you die, nigga you slangin rocks, then that's yo name
On the wall when they run up,
I got
word, nigga, that's my word (word)
Yo Gotti (word)
I got a car (yeah), that bitch a classic (ayy)
White on red, inside out, that bitch nasty (ugh)
word, nigga, that's my word (word)
Yo Gotti (word)
I got a car (yeah), that bitch a classic (ayy)
White on red, inside out, that bitch nasty (ugh)
Gotti, I order hits (boom)
Had to take a trip to the islands, find out my origin (ah)
We just tryna ball like a tournament, shine like an ornaments
a million offa users.
Car and the money the same color of mucous,
Go get it his self they call 'em ghetto Frank Lucas.
Cocaine,
He got it by the boulder,
Came in fly just like a jetpack
Swerving passed problems
Money we gon' get that
We don't have time
For none of that chit chat
'Bout to kick dope shit
Creepin' down the back street on these
I got my glock cocked 'cause niggas want these
Now soon as I said it, seems I got sweated
By some nigga
bussed it all down
And I loaded my mag
Real fucking dope boy
Move weight
Can't complain bout the work
Had to fill my plate
Real life trapstar
Too late
a cliffhanger, no, I ain't a stranger
Yo, I'm Toddy Tee, and I'm a Compton banger
Wanted by the F.B.I. for transport of
Sucker MC's across the Syndicate borders
take advice
From these niggas
They foogazi
Got ya BM
Looking crazy
When I spank it
Its amazing
Shakin ass & titties
Only way she gettin paid
Fuccin dope
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