Lyrics:
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
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.
(whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa)
(It's gon' be yo' favorite song)
Damn, I miss that ass (that ass)
Damn, I miss that ass (whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa)
It's
Pulled up fish tank
Just a bit late
Hit by mistake
I'm the trap savior
I'm a trap savior
Gotti a trap savior
Give me that price I raise it up
Thats yo
Doing things by the dozen
Always up am coming
And that is what your girl love
I ain't into cuffin naw
Ain't no Jon gotti but my Johnson is dapper
In
wyryte na bitach zwroty
Zdobywam przyłożenie Touchdown niczym Yo Gotti
To krzyczane wokale to wokale na screw
Poczuj się jak w Memphis Brożas Buczer this
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
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
never gonna move out of Jacksonville
I'm livin' in fuckin' Hollywood"
Hmm, you know this is my first, uh, rock slash rap album
So, it's kind of new for
K-Blaze on the beat
(Kainan baby)
You can't catch a rolling stone
You tryna' bring down the nation by causin' confusion
Illusion
Infusion and all
(yea)
Slash from the back
Lift her up by her tracks
Now she up on her toes
(yea)
She fuck wit my presence
We leaving together
But came her alone
My
you ain't a soldier, then what's yo' purpose bitch?!!
[1st Verse: [Silkk The Shocker & Master P]]
[Silkk The Shocker]
See, I'm a N-O, nigga L-I
watch to Starburst too,
Put them Lemon Heads in yo ears,
Put them Fruity Pebbles in yo fingers,
Now you're envied by yo peers,
And I'ma get yo ass in
to slash the fee
I get you whacked
For this for that
No I get you whacked for free
Ain't no price up on yo head
Bitch you ain't macking no cheese
Bitch you
off into a party with
A drink in my hand rocawear pants
But I ain't come here to dance
By any chance, has anybody seen DJ Clue?
Tell him I'm lookin' for
could go head up, and I'll fold 'em up slow
There's a gangsta loose, callin all cars
Just left the house in some blue Allstars
Passin' by on them
never I'm supposed to be
I chose to be on some Dark shit
Rip apart shit an' start shit, until whenever I depart, bitch
The hard shit will leave yo' ass
Hey yo must not sleep
I bash the bracket open and breach
The priority's bleached since that seventy-six umbilical severed
Majority's cordially
dog
That'll get yo ass shot
Why you lookin like that?
That'll get yo ass shot, stop lookin' at my dog
Yeah! This ya boy Yo Gotti!
Why you lookin'
dog
That'll get yo ass shot
Why you lookin like that?
That'll get yo ass shot, stop lookin' at my dog
Yeah! This ya boy Yo Gotti!
Why you lookin'
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
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)
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
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