Lyrics:
hustlers naturally born
With street smarts
Yo Karate it's you and Gotti
Y'all lift the weight
Me and Noyd, a gemstar hit down on the plate
The Mobb niggas
That Ain’t no VVs
Put it to test
Them was just lies bro
Niggas stay lying
Stay true to yo self
I came out da dirt
Don’t need no help
Sign to a label
subbin' me in yo' mentions
Bitch, you givin' the feds assistance
They be givin' the feds descriptions
I'm bangin' the red division
My brother ain't here
dead bodies
All these kids dying, the talk of illuminati
As I'm murderin' ink, I get a call from irv gotti
Say "keep spittin' cause when you do it's like
MOTORCITY B Da Muzik
I just want you 2 wrap your arm
I mean your wings around me
And just help me fly GRANNY
On the phone with show-up Gotti, He say
Let me get some head quick
Chilling with a shawty and she got a body shaped like Nesquik
Fit together like Tetris
You can't tear us apart like her
Ain't nobody cook'n though
A section full of them bitches
That Yo Gotti Look'n foe
Yeah that's them 5 stars
The get money drive cars
They got them bang'n
work, never been found asleep
Give me a pound of weed, I would finish that shit in about a week
There you be, talking all that about nothing, yo
While
shot them
Mo' money mo' problems, suppose to get better
Feel for Afeni, like I feel for Violetta
Ay yo they call me Jae Millz, Tru Lenox and Banger
shot them
Mo' money mo' problems, suppose to get better
Feel for Afeni, like I feel for Violetta
Ay yo they call me Jae Millz, Tru Lenox and Banger
peeled
Either way those slugs gonna spill
Buck me in my chest, buck me in my head
But you can't kill VonBushman motherfuckas
I'm already dead
to side
Throw, yo' hands high, wave 'em side to side
[Big Moe]
Everybody clap yo' hands, and sing along wit me
It's Big Moe, the barre baby,
[Talking]
These faggot ass niggas,
Ay yo Buck, word to mother,
Yo they had young Malcom silenced too long baby,
They can't fuckin hold me down nigga,
cause it kill pussies
I'm hood, you good? I'm just checking homie
Still hammer dancing, two steppin' with my weapon on me
Y'all know what it is,
on pork
Kurupt the world's fetish
They feen and scratch
I'm multiplied by twenty thousand
Fiends and crack
You add me to music and the fiends react
Yeah
Yeah
I know these niggas ain't for real for me
These niggas wouldn't kill for me
If they ever got the chance I know that they would steal for
to squeeze hostage all yo relatives
If you know then you know what execution is
Fifty racks, hundred bags all cherry
Give me that, dummy gas on period
a cake about me i got love
I can kill a friend over fam not drugs
And very, few people understand that love
To make a nigga die bleeding is nothing
gon' hit yo' ass up. You know where we comin' from
Death Row BIOTCH hahaha Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
so why don't you kill me (drive, by, body pierce)
Yo bring it on down
I'm a driver, I'm a winner things are gonna' change I can feel it
Soy un
Coming from a tec
You gone meet me first
And after that you meeting death
Thats how you scream
When them bully hit yo spleen
Ugh
Dressed like i left
Roddy (Slut), We blowing biscotti She know ima big Cat Run wit the mob don’t get yo ass robbed they call me John Gotti, smoking big pack gas just fuck up
sworn to beast
Swallowed them in flames
They switched my DNA
Trip me into Cool J
I can't fight the feeling
I'm born to kill prey
To survive an attack
Creepin' down the back street on these
I got my glock cocked 'cause niggas want these
Now soon as I said it, seems I got sweated
By some nigga
Discuss these kill me a by yo gotti Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In