Dead Presidents

Yo GottiYo Gotti 

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Yo Gotti

Mario Mims (born May 19, 1981), better known by his stage name Yo Gotti, is a southern rapper from the northern side of Memphis, Tennessee who was previously known as Lil Yo. more »

Year:

2017

4:27

250 Views

Playlists:

#6

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Rather you than me
If you've been fucking with me from Port of Miami
It's been hell of a fucking journey
Ain't nun' changed nigga
Lil' stronger, lil' wiser, maybe a lil' more violent
Blame it on America
F*ck it

I'm pulling off the lot, I bought it cash
Her future bright, don't give a f*ck about her past
Her ass be looking good inside the leggings
But I notice that she missing all her edges
I run the game just by running with the felons
Poor attitude, and got rich nigga calisthenics
Walking in the courtroom, sipping on a beverage
I know the judge, so I got a lot of leverage
Pissing on these bitches is a fetish (R. Kelly)
Fully loaded .60s smoking on a seven (all ready)
Your dawg get a dime, you never wrote a letter
Still in a box, got her rapping acapella
Can't trust no people fucking with the Reverend
I got a chopper, boy don't make me be the devil
He knocking on the door and know the password
Gave me his blessings, boy I'm hotter than the last verse

Dead presidents, dead d-dead presidents
Dead presidents, dead, them dead presidents
They go to war, yeah, all my lil' niggas militant
Let's go to trial, we guilty til' proven innocent
Dead presidents, dead d-dead presidents
Dead presidents, dead d-dead presidents
Fed sentences, fed, f-fed sentences
Let's go to trial, we guilty 'til proven innocent

I got thirty white bitches like Tommy Lee
I make drug money, nigga, I make blood money
On my third passport, and I'm geechie as f*ck
I got wet stripper pussy at the airport
I got Bowlingreen dollars on my chopper
Bussing down a hundred bales in the bath tub
F*ck this Philippine pussy in some house shoes
I got dope money, nigga, I got war wounds
Get to the clutching on the hammer, ain't no dance moves
I was posted on the stoop, hanging with my Haitians
The murder's on the news, all front pages
Young niggas catching bodies, ain't no relations
I was stacking Ben Franks in Labasa, Fiji
They rob you two times in a row, that's a repeat
And I'm fucking niggas hoes cause they easy
I'm in here fucking niggas wives, balls breezy
She gotta f*ck me like she love me, like she need me
I got my Maybach flooded out with extra TVs
I make a movie every single fucking day
I John Travolta when I flood that Patek face

Dead presidents, dead d-dead presidents
Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents
They go to war, yeah, all my lil' niggas militant
Let's go to trial, we guilty til' proven innocent
Dead presidents, dead d-dead presidents
Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents
Fed sentences, fed, f-fed sentences
Let's go to trial, we guilty 'til proven innocent

Let's go!
Hands on these niggas, got the yellow bracelet
Check off in my pocket like the yellow pages
F*ck you niggas was, when I was ashy nigga
Loafers and the chop, I keep it classy nigga
Build a empire, yeah that's what my state of mind
Motherfuck 'em all, yeah that's what my state of mind
Keep the blocks over there, we call it Lego land
Meanwhile the kids smoking like it's Amsterdam
Dope boy Prez, you know who got the troops
Sixteen when I bought my first Rollie
Legend in my hood just like I'm Escobar
Never ride dirties in the extra car

Dead presidents, dead d-dead presidents
Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents
They go to war, yeah, all my lil' niggas militant
Let's go to trial, we guilty til' proven innocent
Dead presidents, dead d-dead presidents
Dead presidents, dead them dead presidents
Fed sentences, fed, f-fed sentences
Let's go to trial, we guilty till proven innocent

 The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com