Lyrics:
the county hospital jack
Where niggas die over a little scratch
Still sittin' in the trauma center
In my back is where the bullet entered
Yo nurse I'm
to slave the babies
Ay yo they didn't know the cop was crooked, he had blow out in Brooklyn
All his white he let the fiends cook it
The base heads
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)
at
Die for this
Throw guns up to the sky for this
Where y'all at
[Fabolous]
Yo, you must wanna die
From the nigga you testify against
Fabolous make
or no clucker, but ready to hustle
With boulders, bigga than yo' shoulders
Runnin from the rollers, gone on that doja
Cause cowards despise, soldiers we
and gone niggaz gon' remember my name, 50
Yo, Black is flashy like Alpo, gun happy like Papi
Sneaky muh'fucka 'mind me of nigga that clapped me
He ain't
me, nigga)
It's been ten long years (yo)
You can not retire me (listen)
On the corner ready to bo', holding my nuts
Standing by my building,
gon' hit yo' ass up.
You know where we comin' from
Death Row bitch Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
from under the tummy, busting a Tommy
Or come from under your garments, yo chest and your arm hit
Pow, one to the head now you know he dead
Now you
a crime, while in the blind of a flyin' saucer
Unidentified object, and dead of the night walkin'
Y'all parkin' I'm sparkin', hard to talk from a coffin'
search of the rich blocks, to lick spots, and kick rocks
From shattered glass, down the pig locks
Want tips by the clock
You niggas scramblin' for
drama for the ghetto
More human bodies ignited by metal
Yo, once they gone they never come back
Yo
Yo
If I could start from scratch, I'd change most of it
If you gave me your trust, I wouldn't of broken it
I shoulda helped you out, back in 97'
nigga we getting chipsesis
And bad bitchsesis, fronting in eclipses
Yo, Mase and The Lox
We taking knots from the out of state spots
Any nigga make
from under the tummy, busting a Tommy
Or come from under your garments, yo chest and your arm hit
Pow, one to the head now you know he dead
Now you
Women lie, men lie
Women lie, men lie
Women lie, men lie
Numbers don't lie (I'm Yo Gotti)
Women lie, men lie
Women lie, men lie
Women lie, men
the club, but that bitch you
My jewelery too loud, my cars from overseas
You tryin to book a show, that gon cost a couple ki's
Cause, bitch, I'm Yo Gotti
Yo, check it yo, I got slugs for snitches
No love for bitches puttin thugs in ditches
When my trigger finger itches
I got a rep that make police jet
I rolled them dice, I crapped
So many times I can build casinos from scratch
Too many daps you might receive from the things you achieve, relax
That's
I be talkin' 'bout"
And we gon' be around til yo motherfuckin' body rot
And if the Feds bring us in we get the same time Gotti got
And if the Feds
comin' like the Gotti boys
Bodies bein' found on Greenleaf
With their fuckin' heads cut off, motherfucker, I'm Dre
So listen to the play-by
and Daz, gangsta talk!
Gangsta's ride, uh, do what gangsta's do
Bandanna hangin' from the rear view
Too smart, know them up, hold 'em up (though)
We
get mine
You cannot blind me, addicted to a life of crime (hmm)
My time as shorty was full of car chases (woo)
While runnin' with John Gotti's
comin' like the Gotti boys
Bodies bein' found on Greenleaf
With their fuckin' heads cut off, motherfucker, I'm Dre
So listen to the play-by
.jpg/280px-Lee_Scratch_Perry_2016_(9_von_13).jpg "Lee \"Scratch\" Perry")
.jpg/300px-Scratch_Massive@La_Laiterie(SXB).jpg "Scratch Massive")
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