Lyrics:
drop top
Jump off
Watch when summer's round the corner
Sneakers and boots
Jeans for the troops
The plus trees
But never chick by any means for some
in the ville how I go by it
I was stuck in a rut, I was nobody
I been looking for something to go body
There's an art to the hustle like Yo Gotti
Kick
Lauper, multi deep like Frank Sinatra
Gave 10 birds to Waka Flocka, told him drop em Moreland plaza
Whoozy like the morning after, try me then yo skull get
, the drug dealer
I'm Yo Gotti, the thug nigga
I'm Yo Gotti, my own heir
And if you wanna ODX, then tell Gotti to blow it, nigga
I've been getting money for
M.O.B., nigga 'cause we mob on you tricks
And you know we keep it money over bitches
M.O.B., nigga 'cause we mob on you tricks
And you know we
the thunder
Pray to God for the runners
Whole pandemic, all I seen was snow, it's like I missed a summer
Put it on my mama
Yo Gotti, he a hall of fame of drug
My nigga Ja sold more records than an o.g. (o.g.)
Tah flyin by in the Lac truck like a o.g.(o.g.)
For Gotti I'd body a nigga quicker than a o.g.
(Don't we man?)
Those neighbers makin cop calls
Ain't they mad? (Ain't they mad?)
And so we gotta make them drop offs
Don't we man? (Don't we man?)
Every
to tha grave
It's going down, mo-yo, feel this here baby
(verse 1: D-Gotti)
These blades are choppin'
And these babes are boppin'
Got a cup full of mud
give me sloppy
I beat it up like I'm Rocky
Drop the bitch off in a Masi'
Feel like I'm Gotti feel like I'm Teflon
I ride around with a weapon
I got that
pandemic, all I seen was snow
It's like I missed a summer
Put it on my mama
Yo Gotti, he a hall of famer drug dealer
Yo Gotti he be runnin' 'round with real
a summer
Put it on my mama
Yo Gotti, he a hall of fame of drug dealers
Yo Gotti, he be runnin' 'round with real killers
Hush gang, he ain't frontin' no fuck
equip when I whip them
You say how can I make these dirty raps
Number one albums, back to back
If it was 1950, do you think I sell, no
They probably
shit popper
Spark my trees and wake the whole house
Like it's a pot of Folgers
Movin' like and army platoon, lots of soldiers
M-16's aimed above yo
though, screw y'all, I never knew y'all
Your click be like yellow lights, I'm runnin' through y'all
Chorus
Verse Three: Sheek Luchion
Yo, hard as it is
[Irv Gotti talking]
Nobody cares
Trouble's like a cancer, you gotta get it early
You don't get it early it gets to big, it kills you
Nobody cares
'til
The motherfucker drop don't really need a
I guess I'm pump from the lips
Niggas get scared, from the style
They hear it
Start a new religion,
block
Throw your hood up, throw your hood up
Let it drop!
[Verse 8: Grimm]
A Cadillac driver, up and down the slab maine
Cousin, man is nothing but
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
Now I'm gettin' rich off his sip
Pick up my boys on the block and it's on
Slangin' dope by the drug-free zone
Straight gangsta mack
Keyes over keyes
do cuz God got me
Trippin' off who!?, nobody
Know "Men Lie, Women Lie"
That's big facts, word to Yo Gotti
Tryna leave behind a legacy and get Ricch
I'm poppin', nah, I really pop it
Swear my gang the hottest, Paper Route, we the topic (gang)
Racks on me Ho Gotti (stuffed with them big heads)
New
The reason that I'm here, I'ma drop 'til it's clear
Let all, G'z to front, middle and rear
Switches couldn't switch like these switches a day
Just
Girl go on drop that shit for the homie Black-Ty
Drop, drop, get low with it
Drop, drop, get low
Drop, drop, get low with it
Girl I wanna see
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