Lyrics:
on this pack got it straight from the tropics
Shawty looking real good, and the bag know I got it
Know I hit her DM like I was Yo Gotti
She wanna ride me
She say I ball like I'm Kobe
I bag these bitches like groceries
She ride me like a Ducati
Snap me that pussy Yo Gotti
I pull up in Rari's she wet
your neck knows it phat
Check it out like this and then like that
I perfect raps stick in under your skin
Either your noddin' by now
Or your dead
where’s yo halo
mami looking fuego
And she touch me if i say so
Baby that’s a case closed
Lemme pull yo dress low
Only for the night tho
Baby this the night
listenin'
See 50 comin' for me, oh my God ma, my position
No one'll pay attention to me
Please Gotti, here I go, give me this pill
Ecstasy done got me
[Chorus]
This is for the the the the haters
The player the the the the player haters
This is for the the player the player haters
This is for
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
And the choppa it came with a kick stand
Don't make me cock it
This a no fly zone no flodging
I held it down you took a plea on me that shit was bogus
Momma said
It's been a pleasure
We told you and we showed you
My nigga Gotti
And like that
See, I look at this shit like football, you know what I'm sayin'?
with the gift of crap
Like that, white, black, mexican, and jap
Homeboy do anything for a scrap
[Kurupt]
Mark up yo hood like this, anybody killa
DPGC
Like I'm trynna roll me a opp in this blunt
He could get put in this wood we cant go body for body
Like Gotti I'm balling for good
And I wish he would
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
light skin like a barbie
VIP party
Broke hardly
I ain't tryna be the greatest I'm tryna be the realest, "yo gotti"
They told me not to do it, but I
Hey Gotti, Hey Chuck
How the fuck we gon' keep droppin this fire on these niggaz?
Know what I'm saying we killin' 'em on the radio
Then we jump
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
My gang bout to blow
Don't play around
Me and gotti at you door
My gang bout to blow
Don't play around
Me and gotti at you door
Yeah your girl
This the ex-drug dealer hall of fame jersey
This that kept it gangster in every song (song)
I might be livin' wrong (wrong)
This that in the kitchen
on (bitch)
Hit her from the back
In them guts like a tonsil (back)
50 for a check (ayy)
All that lil ice on yo' neck look suspect
(huh, sus) we know yo' shit
Stupid ho's that I use to fuck around wit'
Way back, see a nigga now and they say that I changed
Put another notch in the game
You watchin'
whoop-yo'-ass-day, the sequel
High bar flow-er with no equal
Niggas swingin' swords in the WAR, that's my people
Sho' nuff, before I roll up, this is a hold up
whoop-yo'-ass-day, the sequel
High bar flow-er with no equal
Niggas swingin' swords in the WAR, that's my people
Sho' nuff, before I roll up, this is a hold up
nigga shit
[MC Ren]
Here come The Villain again, grab your hoe and get the fuck outta town
This nigga shit make the world go round
It's that black
worry, he worry about the next dude
It shorten important time that's past due
I'm scoring, scoring finally broke through
Adoring this foreign girl from
your younging get it done for 15k
When you see them drums filled up with them hollows turn yo ass to td jakes
When i hit that number i'm take the mob
.JPG/220px-Yo_Gotti_2009_(improved).JPG "Yo Gotti")
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