Lyrics:
off until everybody's gone
All Star homey, keep a hell of a price
Cash money still a army and I earn my stripes
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Yo Gotti
kind of shit
Like take a point out, then put a point in
I fuck yo main ho and all my homies doin' that shit
I'm getting money, must be the Iluminati
They
Politic, don't even speak see I don't kiss up
Gotta be styles and sheek Jada diss us
Diss us, that's goin piss us, see I love it when the government pick
blind me addicted to
A life of crime
My time as shorty was full of car chases
While runnin' with John
Gotti's and Scarface's
Niggas knew, I'd be the Don
I'm on that FloRida
I'm on that T-Pain
I whisper on that Ying Yang
Off that Yo Gotti man
Can't forget that Dungeon Fam
Flying on that Bird Man
sow
Watch yo vocals in the mixture
Manifest them words
Be careful what you wish for
Yea
Hear no see no
Speak no evil
Hear no see no
Speak no evil
I
really move shit by the truck load
A nigga be trafficking heavy, Boss Shit
Bitch I'm talking 40 ton investments
Intellectually
Im intoxicated
I'n
sippin' DP
Regime be the team of the scream
Balls lean, hit the scene and I'm way too clean
On your radio, yo, yo
[Chorus]
I'm your radio (Turn me
Jones thing
This is just sweet, sweet, love
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
I met her back in the day
Knew how much the bitch weighed and payed
It was sort
Jones thing
This is just sweet, sweet, love
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
I met her back in the day
Knew how much the bitch weighed and payed
It was sort
on me
Luie on wrist
Vlone on my kicks
I'm gettin really rich
I might fuck yo bitch
The suns out the buns out i know that we gon ride
Where the shortys
steady whoopin' that ass ho
Nigga by nigga out the window
You better watch that glass ho
Stepped to Bun B
And you thought I was a punk
Now you bitch-asses
gangsta shit
I say No Limit loud, cause we ain't scared of nobody
Organized by P or should I say, John Gotti
Real niggas, put ya guns up if ya feel me
But
Sniffin' a gotti in lobbys off tits, we be LIT, we be LIT
Pourin' a 4 in a fifth with my bitch cause we be LIT we be lit
Go in a store on da floor is
Yo they get smoked up fuckin
With these gangsta rappers
(These niggas ain't rappers P
They fuckin actors)
Might get locked up fuckin
With you crazy
Lola
I, said, yo Lola, swolla
Suave bola, Ayatollah
Saudi Arabia, Coca-Cola
My Rolex watch is ran by solar
Get down, peep my mic technique
Let's
Yō -Yō, just move your hands slow
This ain't no secret make um dance more...
That'll make us super baby
Some be creepin' 4 a soulmate in 08
It's
shouts, I'mma need a Jordan ring
Fuck you mean this is really mean
Gotti after life
Future looking bright, bitches crack tongue on the pipe
I don't
hella nasty it's absurd.
I love it might put a bun in her oven whisper sweet nothings when fucking
She cook me breakfast in nothing and be my peace
this shit is not a hobby
Why is it the credit that they always try to rob me
It's R.I.P. Dolph, when the fuck they gettin' Gotti
If I up a stick, nigga
sleepin'(Tie 'em up!)
Gimme a minute you be ??? Huggin the clip
You wishin it wasnt a day like this(I wonder why)
Ii be in yo' crib bangin yo' bitch(I love
shots like Jon Gotti
That choppa chop yo chop up like Hibachi
Why you hating on a nigga like a Nazi
Aint no way no way a bitch can stop me
Told lil baby
watch us speak it, speak it
'Cause I hope everybody's listening
Ice on my neck is glistening
Like I be cocking Glocks
And hocking shots when I be
two's like the Yacht Master (Yacht Master)
Fuck first and then we shop after (Yeah)
Set you up for life wit a stock ladder (Yeah)
Gotta be lead
By a nigga
.jpg/300px-Bun_B_(2013).jpg "Bun B")
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