Categoria: Rap

Yo Gotti – I’m Out ( Lyrics Lyric ) Letra Yo Gotti Yo Gotti – I’m Out ( Lyrics Lyric )
Intro
See, I look at this shit like football, you know what I’m sayin’?
Ayy, this that NFL, nigga (June, you’re a genius)
Never felt love
Never found love
And of course
No fake love

Verse 1
I survived the streets (Streets), and never been touched (Touched)
They call it manifestin’, I just never lost a crush
Niggas actin’ sus (Sus), you should call ‘em sis (Huh?)
And I ain’t homophobic, you just actin’ like a bitch
Free that nigga— that shit foul as it gets
Openin’ up the ‘Gram, watchin’ his homeboy snitch
Hurt me to my heart (Heart), sickness in my stomach (Stomach)
Seein’ him in that courtroom make me wanna vomit (Ugh)
Interlude
Ayy, free them niggas for real
Ayy, we prayin’ for you, my nigga, we know what you goin’ through

Verse 2
I got rich and started stressin’, this a curse or it’s a blessin’?
We spend millions on security, but they still ain’t no protection
I’m in NY with my weapon (Weapon), I’m in LA with my weapon (Weapon)
I’m on offense, I’m on defense, play with me, I’m star steppin’
My Phantom just get driven (Driven), I wake up with adrenaline (I’m nervous)
We never said don’t love your bitch, just don’t put her in your business (You heard me?)
That’s pressure on your children (You heard me?), they mama now a witness (A witness)
Her family just diss him because that shit can’t be forgiven (And that’s that)
Big Gotti, yeah, I’m cocky (Cocky)
Three-carat tennis chain on my bitch and that shit rocky (Rocky)
Yeah, I ain’t talkin’ boxin’
Floors full of white and ice, no hockey
Pots on stoves, niggas cookin’ it like hibachi
Niggas fuckin’ up the re-up, steady stackin’ up the profits
Runnin’ ‘round here flexin’, buyin’ watches
Ma, I pray these niggas stop it
Only postin’ on my socials, ‘cause I ain’t social
Ayy, that’s Gotti, he paranoid, don’t approach him
And you know he got that toaster
And you know he havin’ motion
Somethin’ big, one in the head, that shit ain’t sittin’ inside no holster
Ain’t never acceptin’ no ho shit, that nigga there gon’ be vocal
Just bought a crib on the coastal, he ain’t goin’ back and forth with no locals
Ain’t goin’ back and forth with no dealer
You want a bad bitch, you can build her
See, I’m the type that don’t kiss and tell
I’ll never buy a bitch a BBL
But I’ll buy a ho a lot of Chanel
Make a wish, I’m a well (Well)
I’m a gangster and a player (Player)
How she yours if you pay her?
How she mine, half-naked?
On the ‘Gram, can’t respect it (Can’t)
Real nigga, I’ma check it (Check it)
Know the brand, protect it
Reputation and relationships, gotta know your worth
That’s a Birkin with no money in it, bitch, you livin’ out a purse
And I can’t believe you niggas talkin’ on these phones (For real?)
Callin’ from a jail like you alone, you niggas ain’t tryna come home
Damn, they said on the call that they recordin’, you not listenin’? (This call is subject to recording and monitoring)
I don’t get it, ‘cause you ignorin’ it
And I just seen a father (Father), tellin’ on his son (Disgusting)
And I just seen a drug dealer (A drug dealer?), tellin’ on his moms
I’m officially out these streets, nigga (It’s over), what have it become?
I got principles and morals, but my feelings all numb (Shh)
Outro
Where I come from, every day you wake up, every day you leave the house, you takin’ a chance on
Goin’ to the federal penitentiary or gettin’ killed
All my closest friends gone
You know what I’m sayin’? I know what come with this lifestyle, like
That’s why I trip off on these—
That always wanna specify how much they in the street and how much they wanna be street in they hood
Nigga, where I come from, you tryna get out the hood
That’s the obstacle, nigga
Lyrics, Letras, Paroles, Deutsche, Letras, Testi,Тексты, Texty, Norske, Текстови, Versuri, Persian, Liricí, Lirik, Nederlandse, Tagalog

Yo Gotti – Pop My Shit ( Lyrics) Letra Yo Gotti Yo Gotti – Pop My Shit ( Lyrics Lyric
Intro
Pop your shit
I been pop, pop, poppin’ shit
Let me pop my shit

Chorus
Yeah, let me pop my shit
Niggas flat out hatin’ (For what?), you ain’t no opp of shit
Ha, yeah, and we opposite
I be on that straight get to the money, don’t make me drop some shit
Verse 1
You might catch me in a tux’ (suited)
Factory on the Phantom and you pussies know what’s up (know what’s up)
Bowtie on my collar (Collar), hundred thousand dollars
Got my slippers sayin’ Prada
And my ho don’t give me problems
My net worth unidentified, I got twelve million in watches (Woo)
I’m a street nigga, I know how to hide it, got forty million in property (Woo)
And it’s all there
Why you tough-ass niggas be shootin’ at God? Y’all hittin’ all air
My cars ain’t no flex to me
Any bitch stand next to me, she gotta put my ex to sleep (Okay, okay)
Shе can’t get these racks from mе, gotta arch that back for me
Wake her up, put her back to sleep (Yeah)
Wake her up, tell her rub my feet (Okay)
Tell the world how you fuck with me now

Chorus
Yeah, let me pop my shit
Niggas flat out hatin’ (Hatin’), you ain’t no opp of shit
Ha, yeah, and we opposite
I be on that straight get to the money, don’t make me drop some shit (Pah, pah)
Yeah, let me pop my shit
Niggas flat out hatin’ (Niggas hatin’), you ain’t no opp of shit
Ha, yeah, and we opposite
I be on that straight get to the money, don’t make me drop some shit
Verse 2
Seven days a week, I can fly private if I wanted to (Yeah, yeah)
I’m consistent, I won’t ever let up if I wanted you
I’m persistent, I see every detail and won’t skip a step
Real leader, won’t tell my dog do somethin’ I wouldn’t do myself
We pick up Chanel (Chanel), and we leave Fendi on the shelf
Your rocks big as hell, went to the jeweler, couldn’t help myself
Million in a duffy, bought my son a fluffy
Plug trust me, weed musty
Streets love me and I love ‘em back
Gave my bitch a million, she been turnin’ up, don’t know how to act
Here’s another million, better flip that shit and bring it back
Real hustler, so that’s the type of shit that I attract
And she turn me on, ridin’ that dick and talkin’ ‘bout a sack

Chorus
Pop your shit
Yeah, let me pop my shit
Niggas flat out hatin’ (Niggas hatin’), you ain’t no opp of shit
Ha, yeah, and we opposite
I be on that straight get to the money, don’t make me drop some shit (Pah, pah)
Yeah, let me pop my shit
Niggas flat out hatin’ (Niggas hatin’), you ain’t no opp of shit
Ha, yeah, and we opposite
I be on that straight get to the money, don’t make me drop some shit
Outro
I be on that straight get to the money
And we opposite
I be on that straight get to the money
Don’t make me drop some shit
Lyrics, Letras, Paroles, Deutsche, Letras, Testi,Тексты, Texty, Norske, Текстови, Versuri, Persian, Liricí, Lirik, Nederlandse, Tagalog

Yo Gotti – 1st Hunnid Bands ( Lyrics ) Letra Yo Gotti Yo Gotti – 1st Hunnid Bands ( Lyrics Lyric )
Intro
(Dee, you poppin’ your shit, nigga)
My first hundred bands
Thank the hood for my first hundred grand
Was runnin’ plays for my first hundred bands
Let’s thank the J’s for my first hundred grand

Chorus
My first hundred grand, thought I was a millionaire
My first hundred P’s in the whip, can barely fit in there (Woo)
Ten stacks of tens stacked in rubber bands (Bands)
Fives, tens, and twenties, my first hundred grand (Grand)
Verse 1
I grew up with nothin’ (Nothin’), watched my mama suffer (Damn)
Idolized my father (Father), looked up to my brother (Brother)
Both of them were hustlers (Hustlers), both of them were gangsters (Gangster)
Grandviеw Elementary, in sixth grade, I had a bangеr (Pow)
Always had a problem (Problem), couldn’t deal with my anger (Couldn’t deal with my anger)
Never talk ‘round bitches (Shh), never spoke ‘round strangers (Quiet)
I wanted to get money, somehow I ended up famous (How?)
But God know, my first hundred thousand came from slinging (Yeah)
Lord knows, I never been a pussy nigga, ain’t I?
My favorite room in the house the kitchen
Never goin’ broke ‘bout no bitches (Never)
It’s a difference ‘tween gettin’ money and trickin’
Hundred K on my missus
It’s a difference when you playin’ with a hundred million

Chorus
My first hundred grand (Grand), thought I was a millionaire (I am)
My first hundred P’s (Hundred P’s) in the whip, can barely fit in there (Woo)
Ten stacks of tens stacked in rubber bands (That’s a hundred)
Fives, tens, and twenties, my first hundred grand (A hundred)
My first hundred grand (Hundred) thought I was a millionaire
My first hundred P’s in the whip, can barely fit in there (Woo)
Ten stacks of tens stacked in rubber bands (That’s a huncho)
Fives, tens, and twenties, my first hundred grand (Yeah)
Verse 2
Started with an ounce (oz), better yet, a half (Half)
Nigga, I’m talkin’ fourteen grams still in the bag (Plastic)
Four O’s in a split (Split), it’s one twenty-five (Woo)
That’s a half a quarter (Quarter), I pay twenty-five (Cash)
Now I got a nine (Nine), that’s a quarter ki’ (Ki’)
I feel like the plug (I am), you can buy it off of me
Got a half a chicken (A chicken), got fronted a half a chicken (Give me that)
Now I got a brick (A what?) standin’ in the kitchen (Woo)
Microwave tricks, niggas showed my how to whip it (Whip it)
Summertime, I ran up a cool quarter ticket
I ain’t fuck it up (What I do?), re’d up, flipped it (What I do?)
Re’d up, flipped it (Flipped it), re’d up, flipped it (Flipped it)

Chorus
My first hundred grand (Grand), thought I was a millionaire (I am)
My first hundred P’s in the whip, can barely fit in there (Woo)
Ten stacks of tens stacked in rubber bands
Fives, tens, and twenties, my first hundred grand
My first hundred grand, thought I was a millionaire (I am)
My first hundred P’s in the whip, can barely fit in there
Ten stacks of tens stacked in rubber bands (That’s a huncho)
Fives, tens, and twenties, my first hundred grand (Yeah)

Outro
(Dee, you poppin’ your shit, nigga)
Lyrics, Letras, Paroles, Deutsche, Letras, Testi,Тексты, Texty, Norske, Текстови, Versuri, Persian, Liricí, Lirik, Nederlandse, Tagalog