Lyrics:
by the 9
Fuck the dumb shit, I run this, a whole life of crime
Ain't never had shit, but always had my pistol, bitch
187, don't make me whistle, bitch
look in my eyes
Fell in love with a bitch, she was tellin' me lies
I relapsed then come back, that was time after time
Quarter brick, the most value
It's Yo boy Juan Gotti Juan Gachos
Shout out Aiden, Manic Beats
No set trippin' records in this bitch
What's up Steve Era
Ah
Now you on the floor
Curse words on the TV and radio
You want to see sex, turn it on HBO
Late at night, you see women freak women
Sex sale, that's why I keep pimpin'
I
he use his name in vain? I need to know
If God were one of us (One of us)
Would he believe that he could breathe again?
Yo, yo
Now let's look
Watch me!
Jigga-Man, ya heard? Boom boom boom
Brooklyn, ya heard? Boom boom booom
Compton!
Gotti Gotti ya heard? Yo,
C'mon!
You gotta, pop that
no vacay, the props become a problem when it's hot, mayday mayday
But no charge, I'm nutty with the bars that's a payday
So bruh, this ain't even
Wup that hoe [x13]
[Chorus x2: Yo Gotti]
Wup that hoe, Wup that hoe (she fucked yo baby daddy)
Wup that hoe, wup that hoe (shit I aint mad at ya)
It's your boy Yo Gotti, gyeah!
Gucci Mane La Flare
My nigga Ralph in here
Zaytoven on the beat, nigga
And it's a street-nigga holiday
My Nigga
love these hoes
I'm above and beyond everything that your seein
And I'm the only real nigga left rappin this freakin
If I could be one of the seasons,
above and beyond everything that your seein'
And I'm the only real nigga left rappin this freakin'
If I could be one of the seasons, you'd call me
underground)
[Repeat: x2]
Yea it's Murda Inc. Baby so what you want baby
Ain't none of this 'cause ya niggas ain't crazy
It's Ja Rule, Irv Gotti
lavish, in the kitchen whippin' magic (bad, bad)
Yo Gotti, 2 Chainz
Bad bitches, bad habits
We got London on da Track
Yeah
I ain't asked nan' nigga
getting static cause I'll lay em down
This ascension every time I'm rapping cuz these rappers clowns
Maserati that's a brand new gotti
I be with
Already,
Know what I'm sayin' this Birdman and this how it's goin' down,
That little youngin' Yo Gotti I certified him stamped approval
Yeah, okay like yeah, boy
Ayy, what's that? My nigga Gotti
And we know they fuck with you in my city
Like they fuck with you in my city
Project Pat,
It's your boy Yo Gotti, gyeah!
Gucci Mane La Flare
My nigga Ralph in here
Zaytoven on the beat, nigga
And it's a street-nigga holiday
My Nigga
it'll take em years to bite it
Which the greatest fears I don't write it it just appears outta no where like da
Information contain by the phycic like it
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
he use his name in vain? I need to know
If God were one of us (One of us)
Would he believe that he could breathe again?
Yo, yo
Now let's look
What's up Chi-town?
Yeah, Murder INC. back up in ya area
On that gangsta s*** ya know
Connect worldwide
Worldwide gangsta s*** nah mean?
From
Tell It you too nice
All you want to do is lick her pussy and hit her bare
She want to fuck with a nigga that don't really care
Yo gotti hit the bitch
get that gas like I harvest (Trappin’ Shit)
Trappin’ this shot I’m a artist
Drugs got me higher than martians (Drugs I’m High)
All of this drip that I
buckin' that shit on the law (we buckin')
Young Gotti, the way we get off (Gotti)
From the beginnin' (beginnin')
We had the talent to win it (soo)
.JPG/220px-Yo_Gotti_2009_(improved).JPG "Yo Gotti")
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