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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
Women lie, men lie Women lie, men lie Women lie, men lie Numbers don't lie (I'm Yo Gotti) Women lie, men lie Women lie, men lie Women lie, men
[sheek] Yo, ayo let's get papers and pop mo' with holes up in skyscrapers In condiminiums, overlooking our drug capers New york city, know only
Jus' get yo money mayn, tha INC is runnin' thangs, hideout wit 'Loose Change'. An' you nigga Ima send you ta mommy... wit strict ordas from Gotti ta hide
Guess im just like Yo Gotti, 'cuz im just tryna rake up Countin' cash till the sunset, countin' cash when i wake up Stackin' money on the dresser, see
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
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
So I picked up my mail, and I'm about to go Cause I'm about that mo' money, mo' money, mo' Now homie on his face, he rolled over just like that
like my name Greg Popovich I live by da code like I stay in sum apartments I be on fire like my name yo gotti Learned how to hustle keep sum guap in my
Bitch! Brick city, yo Yo, yo funk doc straight lunatic since young I ate paint chips the rare moon That pair mics, my maintenance I battle you
an MC Aha, aha, aha, aha Everybody wants to be an MC Tidjân Yo and I want Mo Money Mo Cash Mo Girls Mo mo Bling bling Mo Parties Mo Rings Mo Fame Mo, mo
mo' rich, c'mon Let's close the club, c'mon Fuck the place up, c'mon Shake yo' nasty ass And make it swing all around, c'mon Yo, make this money
mo' rich, c'mon Let's close the club, c'mon Fuck the place up, c'mon Shake yo' nasty ass And make it swing all around, c'mon Yo, make this money
Got mo' money in my piggy bank then you got in yo real bank Mo' money in my piggy bank then you got in yo real bank I hustle, yeah I hustle Man I
thirty-eight packer Money stacker, t-shirt cakalaka Verbal predator, fake rap attacker Gotti jawbreaker, Roscoe the back cracker Money makin, we smart like
[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
got to get it, got to run my money up [3X] Uh! I'm going on a Trap-A-Thon Gucci Mane like Gotti I'm the Dapper Don Uh! Hundred G's in my Gucci bag
Gotti you know we got you nigga Palm City Milkwaukee Buck'ing Gang Yo it's that boy they call Young'n And you know I rep that gang Them ink
My nigga Ja sold more records than an o.g. (o.g.) Tah flyin by in the Lac truck like a o.g.(o.g.) For Gotti I'd body a nigga quicker than a o.g.
some blue Allstars Passin by on them thang, it's a brown MC Niggaz goin buffin DPG (Dogg Pound, Dogg Pound) Niggaz mad Dogg bumpin a bank account
seas Eightball slippin', Dogg Pound trippin' Back in the mo', where we don't give a fuck My baby brother NYA, and just he got stuck By them same
numbers followed by a bunch of zeros Yeaahman I’m all about my business Loyal to the money but it also is my mistress But wait!! I’m in a whole different
gettin' me anxious To speak for my defendants, that say that they plaintive Guess we guilty by song, but yo the government must be on (Exodus) I mean
overseas My nigga Snoop from the Pound Put me in the game With a sweet chocolate brown Ass beating by the Pound To the sound of my ride Gotti opened up
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