Lyrics:
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
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)
don't own a clock
Our trajectory is booming, we just won't ever flop
Why be a shooter when you could be out here calling the shots?
I feel like Gotti in
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
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
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
the Octagon
I spit the fire til it burn down Babylon
Take a piece of America back
You will learn
It's called truth
Death by suicide bomb, protestants,
Fuck yo engineer for not telling you the truth
And fuck yo bedroom closet, a.k.a. yo booth
Naw I aint hating on the mixtape
I'm the type to jam it if yo
no rappers for hire
So I keep my 9 to 5 and we coordinated like choirs
Speak the truth when I lay my vocals in a booth session
No second guessing I'mma
Yo nahmsayin?
Yeah she'll take you out too kid
Take this shit out
A rainy day laid up thinkin' sittin' gettin' bent
Watchin' old seventy
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
a hunnid
Push for me the same way I push for you
In the streets your credit good until it ain't (facts)
No snitchin', won't tell the truth
Sky blue
it'll take em years to bite it
Which the greatest fears I don't write it it just appears outta no where like da
Information contain by the phycic like it
You shittin' me
(Thank you Fizzle)
(Smoov, what's good baby?)
Got the juice
Listen, we know the truth
Any animosity towards me, better think
Foreign
Barbie
Foreign
Barbie
Foreign
Barbie
Foreign
Yeah
I'm the nigga in the foreign (Vrooom)
That will take yo ass touring (Leer)
I heard all your
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
the truth and yal ain't real dog
Listened to eve and bit the apple now my eyes open
Prescription drugs numb my brain bitch I'm steady rolling
Can't smoke no
These niggas gone hate that's fine to me
When a bitch wanna leave that's fine by me
But zo know a trick make the bitch go crazy
I been telling myself
Ohtani
Beat me? Nobody!
Mob boss John Gotti
Cobra-Kai Karate
Fortnite off the top floor
You hate that or the cops more?
900 no pigeon score
Did a Tony Hawk
swear Ima shine
Yo I'm frustrated as fuck
Cuz I'm down on my luck
And I put on the radio hearing
Rappers that suck, yea
Walking around like they Tut
you
Said around a bunch of lies than stand up for the fuckin' truth
Built my future in a pot, a skillet, how it pan through
Bitches wanna tie the knot,
Lik-like-like-like we always do
About this time
Ha! You know we got you open, don't front
You know the name by now
You know what we want
Come on, 7,
Hey I pray that you come home
9 1 1 dial pick up the phone
Judge by the book sticks and stones
You got to live with the truth when you all alone
Yo
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
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