Lyrics:
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
the sh** dawg
No
I'm not big headed
I like my Benjamin's big headed
Boy yo lifestyle got a big edit
And my sh** raw
I got big credit
I got em pissed off
I
girl)
Hey DJ (on the request line girl)
Play a record by my favorite band
I like to hear my favorite song on the radio
So I called and requested
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
tical
Still gritty style, foul, crimi-niminal, individual
Sing a song of sixpence
Pocket full of chits
Too many rappers be on john gotti's dick
Now this
love my voice
Of course, full-force, I done made it now
[Yo Gotti]
I feel like you can't stop me now
I'm tighter now
More of a writer now
Than a rapper
ain't eating, ten pound for the weekend
Griminal's doing his ting
And Devlin's gone, he must feel left out
By the time I'm done here
There won't be one
This culture came from
And what it's really all about
I got you, my nigga, yo, ayo
Count to ten and then come in shootin'
Fuck peace, Silverback the new
This is a request Mr. Radio Man
Just one desire from a hip-hop fan
Hey DJ, you're on the line, girl
Hey DJ, on the request line, girl
Play a record by my
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
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
girl)
Hey DJ (on the request line girl)
Play a record by my favorite band
I like to hear my favorite song on the radio
So I called and requested
shotty blow
Fine pot of gold
Found by the stove
Red yellow go
Dread let em know
Bread feta dough
Make cheddar slow
Spread lettuce go
Incredible YO!
This is
lettuce go
Incredible YO!
This is what I mean
An ANTI NIGGA machine
I ain't got no radio edits!
Baby we don't come clean
Yet I
Stay on my JERU
A dirty
Ooo who did this beat
I like this
This nice
This here's for the radio edit
We just got an X Rating
Imma gone and wet it
Yeah
Bass Dheep
Ha Ha Ha
Fuck
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
West west yall
William Holla with the S yall yall
Know what time it is
Woof! Can't spell the west without the "es"
DJ Clue beyotch! Kurupt!
I fall
got you stressin
And pressing
My contact
A million times
You be trippin
You really be all in yo head
I'm tryna get to a bag
And get outta my feelings
on the line girl)
Hey DJ (On the request line girl)
Play the record by my favorite band
I like to hear my favorite song on the radio
So I called
a sit-down
Forget the studio and the mixdown
It's time to set it, you talkin loud without the credit
You clean like a radio edit
You couldn't tell that
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
jux, rush the doors
Here come the D's, time to make breeze and guns toss
In full force, my team'll go at your main source
My 9 Taurus hit bosses
times, puff puff pass
Big Snoop, big Daz young Gotti, get it Gotti
Somebody in here smellin like hot karate
And that’s the way you comin up in this
No
and
Every time I see her I just listen like yo gotti cuz
I just wanna show you love nothing else It's true
I just wanna show you love nothing else it's you
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