Lyrics:
(feat. Juan Gotti, Baby Bash, Carolyn, Coast, Grimm, Low-G, Lucky Luciano, Powda, Quota Key, Rasheed)
[Verse 1: Juan Gotti]
Razaville Texas
strap, that's my peace offering (Yo, yo, yo, yeah uh yeah ooh)
Five shots get rung out, five bodies falling
Come put your lights out, I spark your
strap, that's my peace offering (Yo, yo, yo, yeah uh yeah ooh)
Five shots get rung out, five bodies falling
Come put your lights out, I spark your
was snow
It's like I missed the summer, put it on my mama
Yo Gotti, he a Hall of Famer drill dealer
Yo Gotti, he be runnin' around real killers
Hush
[wyclef talking:]
Yo to my people doing time, xzibit, juvenile, y'all need to
Nature, ja rule, reptile come on
Bring the heat.
[xzibit]
Look,
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
Already, kno what I'm sayin this Birdman and this how
it's goin down, that little youngin Yo Gotti I certifed
him stamped approval, you feel me?
,
Mike, I kill the mic' so shout out to slick, Killer Mike (Killa)
Me and Plies, chinky eyes, back to back in Hummers so it's ten times
Double wide,
Switchy on a Glock
Blast
Bout to call the guys we on yo' ass
We in the Mazi doin' the dash
Rep ya' fuckin' fly
It's dirty sticks in the bag
Aye lil' Rob I'm
The Nicky Scarfo comin' through to bust
Death spreads through camps like Parvo
Young Gotti Kurupt and C with the
Dope and the green weed
Indeed, I'm out
I do this job dirty
Donna Karan New York call it Fatal Dogg New Jersey
Niggas ain't seen time I travel courts and dream crime
My room like
slipped
The Mac is cuttin records and punks are gettin ripped
Gangster I am, bust the lyrics like a drive-by
You wanna sleep? Well, it's lights out
pink lemoade or sherballato
Pink lemonade or sherballato tell me
What you want hoe yh i got 35s
Tenscotti by tenco or i got gotti
By backpack boys in
and marshmallows out by the fire
World spinning yeah just like my tires
I'm living the dream, never plan to retire
Italiano flow, with a biscotti on the side
Take
holla at yo' peoples nigga..
[Verse 1 Ja Rule]
For now on call me the don, and bicthes call me don da da
Where ever I go niggaz soon to follow'
Like
the record by the fist full
By the crate full, and we grateful
When you hear the soulful records that are tasteful
Last night the DJ saved my life
'Cause
will I ride without a full clip
Never again will I waste time on a dumb bitch
Never again will I consider myself as average
I'm just tryna ball out cause
to the end, go find out what we might see
Pass it to the next, call that shit one-two, three
(Is that Jay spotted? Jay spotted? Jay spotted? Jay spotted?)
Yo
killed out here
Chi-town, New York, blood spill out here
And thugs like me, still out here
Yeah you heard n****, I'm still out here
A yo I ride up,
on the cut
We done run through the v
Turned yo girl to a slut
We done do it big shiggy quick Bitches dressing up
Showing out for the freaks
Now her jaw
Roddy (Slut), We blowing biscotti She know ima big Cat Run wit the mob don’t get yo ass robbed they call me John Gotti, smoking big pack gas just fuck up
out (uh) the court
Yo (woo), watch your man then you should watch your mouth
Bitches is pressed, administer mouth to mouth
You see them stats, you
I do this job dirty
Donna Karan New York call it Fatal Dogg New Jersey
Niggas ain't seen time I travel courts and dream crime
My room like
Already bitch
Trunk full of yay bitch, PA to H Town nigga
Get on yo' money motherfucker
It's really goin down in the South
Sweet Jones biatch!
(Uh)
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