Lyrics:
to the grave
(Straight from the motherfuckin cradle to the grave!)
Yo, it's the real drama kills, nobody moves, stand still!
Bottle you! Drop that ass off in
on my ninja shit
On the low
Yo did you hear how he flipped that shit
Uh flip that shit just to get it back
I don't need your love
Baby I'm a Big Mac yea
of a sacrifice money, bitches, and ice.
But fuck it whoa whoa something let me
Still to something ride 125 in a low low frontin'
It's free will emotion you
What it do doc
This ya boy yo gotti
You know I'm affiliated with them affiliates
And this is gangsta shit
Dope money Gloc 40, make my pance
Ninety five keep it live
Yeah to make papers knahmsayin'?
Motherfuckin' Kool G. Rap and B1
And my motherfuckin' man Grimm
Just comin' with
pull out the shotty
Causin' permanent damage to they bodies
We niggas like Gotti, takin' it to the extreme
Doin' whatever it takes, nigga
By any means,
tell me what it's gon' be
Young nigga chop it up 223
Come to the D, don't hit OGs
And my advice is stay low-key
Bitch we great, bitch we great,
Thinkin' about what he gon' do next
Ride, ride through the hood
Keep it low to the ground
Ride through the hood
Keep it low to the ground
Ride,
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
[talking]
Look here, you know what I mean, I done did a lot of
shit in my life, Yo Gotti, street raised street paid...
[chorus]
I'ma sell my dope
have no friends in the outfield
Foul balls is death, umpires keep ice grills
There's no tomorrow, it's the bottom of the 9-9
Can't die a broke man
thang sus
Do yo thang sus
Do yo thang sus
Drop it down
Real low
Do yo thang sus
Got dang
Shawty got cake by the pound
She going around all through
of the disdainers and the heinous they've forgotten
Thought I'd make it but I'm trodden, keep being beaten deep into the bottom
I'm caved in, Souk, Kaeden, nothing
talk about it I don't talk about it, be about it
You can come and see me about it I'm a real O.T. about it
Real niggas keep me surrounded We do real
the switch up on the forty glock
(Forty glock forty glock forty glock)
(Ay big Gotti)
Me and big Boe up in this bitch right now you play it's a crime scene
We
It's murda (Yo it's murda)...niggaz it's murda(Niggaz it's murda)
It's murda (Yo it's murda)...niggaz it's murda(Niggaz it's murda)
[Chorus]
sellin'
And for the past three months yo I can still hear my victims yellin'
But I can't listen to my conscience it's nonsense
If I didn't shoot I'd be
smash your Benz windows
Detecting fake niggas signals
Yo live niggas get it too
Scarin rappers like the fed time
Gotti was acquitted to
Bloodshot red
in a low low frontin
It's free will emotion you know I'm high flickin' ashes
At police while I'm ridin' by I'm ghetto I don't fear
Is deeper than
stop her
And her weave gon' look real even though it ain't real
'cause it cost a lil' money she stuntin' in them heels
And her jeans cut low and her
Huh, I doubt it punk
Pop the trunk, my goons, high noon, out to lunch
The D&G bag? That's where the weed stash
Keep cash, breeze past, fuck y'all, eat
thought
No keys 2 da foreign Push a Button Auto-Start (Auto-Start)
Like HAAI
Wat up Gotti Baby
Welcome home Free BRay
Rip lil Corey you know what it Is
Crossin my niggas is not recommended,
Tempted to put you in a life long body cast
You best guard yo shit when the shotty blast
More straps than John Gotti
the runners
Whole pandemic, all I seen was snow, it's like I missed a summer
Put it on my mama
Yo Gotti, he a hall of fame of drug dealers
Yo Gotti, he be
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