Lyrics:
Living like John Gotti
Chopping bricks like karate
Drink a bunch of codeine
Serving to the dope fiends
Blowing money, stay clean
Michael Jackson,
came out last month. They tell me it was recorded in a hotel room in Milan.
Knox: Fascinating. What will they think of next?!
Roosevelt: Indeed, Mr
enough, to know that I have seen too much
See 'cause Mr. when you're rattling
On heaven's gate
Let me tell you Mr.
By then it is too late
'Cause Mr. when
When you make the Kool-Aid
You put your own amount of sugar in it
Sweet, sweet love to your taste
To your own specifications
Now tell Kool-Aid,
When you make the Kool-Aid
You put your own amount of sugar in it
Sweet, sweet love to your taste
To your own specifications
Now tell Kool-Aid,
dog
That'll get yo ass shot
Why you lookin like that?
That'll get yo ass shot, stop lookin' at my dog
Yeah! This ya boy Yo Gotti!
Why you lookin'
dog
That'll get yo ass shot
Why you lookin like that?
That'll get yo ass shot, stop lookin' at my dog
Yeah! This ya boy Yo Gotti!
Why you lookin'
And call me by my new name
(What is that?) featuring Lil Wayne
It seems like everybody, everybody, everybody
Everybody forgotten about me
Will I ever,
(yo, you know what I'm sayin'?) why are you so mad?
Yo, I'ma I'ma keep it real simple for you
Yeah t-t-t-t-t-tell them niggas why you mad, son
Tell
to wreck
[Verse 3: SPM]
Money and the power, glass on the Prowler
Blaze up a blunt as I tell you all about it
Kill'a of the Hill'a, crawl like
thinkin' 'bout it
Yo, yo
I'm Yo Gotti, I normally don't talk a lot
I open the door and she walkin' out
A couple of things you should figure out (what
(yo, you know what I'm sayin'?) why are you so mad?
Yo, I'ma I'ma keep it real simple for you
Yeah t-t-t-t-t-tell them niggas why you mad, son
Tell
You get yo shit whacked in the day and whacked up in the dark
I had to stay up out the way, it was getting bizarre
Let me talk my shit
I got niggas who
niggas yell squad
K Camp screaming link up
300 niggas, that's 300 motherfuckers
Trying to get it in by the trucks
I'm a hot young nigga that'll take your
Yeah, Money Mos
Yeah, n****, whatever
Yeah, bitch, it whatever
Yo Gotti you ready?
Yeah, I am
L'll never let my n**** down
Nah, I never put some
Eh Mr. Chin
Everyday you ah gimme Pepsi, Pepsi
W'appen to the Red Stripe beer and Lion Stout?
Eeh? Eeh? Eeh? Eeh? Oi-yo
Mr. Chin (ay)
But you
tell 'em say
Eh yo SOS
Mr Marley be the guy on deck
Eh yo SOS
From the north to the south to the east and west
Eh yo SOS
Mr. Marley be the guy on deck
Please, Mr. DJ
Tell me if you hear me
Turn the music up
Hey, Mister
Please, Mr. DJ
Tell me if you hear me
Turn the music up
It goes one by one,
you (oh)
(Get set, get set)
Hey Mr. DJ keep playin' this song for me
Out on the floor in my arms she's gotta be
Let's get it on (let's get it on)
Yeah, yo
Call me Gunshot Mike or Mr Skeng
Check one-two-one man skitzed again
Dickhead you and a dickhead crew
Getting gassed up by your
she was on a nigga airtight
It won't no what's up it won't no hug I shook my head twice
You thinking we bros you broke the code I found yo hoe and bent
Lord bless these dirty hands
Bless me
Lord bless these dirty hands of mine
Forgive me
Gotti listen up you wanna be fag thottie
It's time you need
niggas, they be dyin' over bitches
Who that is
Mr. Step on shit for real
Mr. Do it by himself when I go out on that drill
Who that is
Mr. Turn up
gonna shoot by the way
I said it's on by the way, I'm in the zone by the way
And you can call me Mr. Get 'Em Gone by the way
I did it by the way, I was
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