[Verse 1:Yo Gotti] Oh this a hit nigga With no words on it I got on, two chains No I ain't Tity Boi I'm dream chasin' But I ain't from Philly boy Bitch bad, and she said I can get it boy This a hit and I'mma make a nigga feel it boy My quarter planes, my swagger saying My campaign on ten I like the bitch She down to fuck, but I'm really into her friend House up on the hill, got it off of cocaine I'm fetching through a Lamborghini Condo off of Biscayne Bitch I'm in my lane Fresh as hell no stains Giuseppe man’s my chain I'm different all dividend My bitch only ride dick for me You’re right and I'm back, you've been missing me My watch silly my clock ignorant I'm the king of my city I'm banned up and it ain't in the bed My flow just like an issue Please take that yellow tape on the ass Haters on the Zs, pussy why they do that?
[Verse 2: T.I.] King shit, hey you know what it is Tryna smell on that pound that loud for a nigga Like 100 real and Drive Ferrari for some motherfucking killer 50 minutes imagine that on morning you’re repenting I got rats all in my goggle pants Standing clear with the hollow man Your bitch as yo bitch bad She can fuck fast ain't no romance My diamond dancing in 3D nigga Fake the trip where you see me nigga Your money wrong and my money long And I'm playing with it like PE nigga Real nigga no joke No fake ass nigga no hope I got mini round team and a 100 round joke I'm gonna over up all of my coke And nigga I don’t wanna smoke your weed Plain ass only thing I smoke Gonna thank up for the gifters on.. Shorty ain't tell me everything I know I do whip it , who could care to dip it Had it to your partner let it flood it to the city We bout that action, you try us and we blessing We turnt to the max that’s a motherfucking fact Come a real nigga for E round
[Verse 3: Yo Gotti] Door up, doors down When I'm in the club bitch your going down Shorty take it for, hand down Heads up, pants down Down, down, shorty fucking head down I see my phone blowing up I know it’s going down What’s up pussy in the rapper it ain't hit the town Keeping numbers in the city boy it’s going down That’s that dope boy autonomy Keep that level been up to me My friend my weed such tragedy Shorty couple hands on happily I ball hard like an athlete I look like a referee nigga They blowing the whistle they telling I do the clam I'm chilling This bitch turned up making rain When I'm in the club you tell’em They talk about these dealers that don’t get it in the game I'ma real nigga till the death of me Never sing a song like a para key Kick the bands in my pocket jam I’ll be kicking money like a motherfucker lose control Spend it in the kitchen nigga try a couple bricks on
Yeah! I am! LA Reed cut that check for me Turn it! Turn it! Turn it! Turn it! Tell the streets cut a check for me