A MOMENT WITH GOTTI Lyrics
As real as it get
‘Cause your favorite rapper been on my dick
I just was prayin’ this thing drop me prolly fit in my piss
I told my mama I’m on
She told me, “Shut up and grip”
Purebred red nose pit, I trained him lay down and sit
They tried boxin’ me in
But I ain’t flinchin’, I ain’t nothin’
I send ’em, they comin’, I don’t pay ’em nothing under a hunnid
He took off runnin’ but stumbled
Got his head turned to a pumpkin
Plus my sons in abundance, they know they daddy been thuggin’
Even though I know they mama make me, show I love ’em with money
I’m the king of the jungle but they ain’t vote me the leader
I undercut my competers although it’s cheaper, it’s ether
Rush him, puttin’ it in the freezer, pray it don’t clog up his needle
I’m gon’ pop it like Gotti, playin’ touchdown through my speakers
Put all my jewelry on in my car before a n**** ain’t touchin’ me neither
I just touched down in Houston
It’s just me and my shooter
I ain’t payin no plugs, I got more free bands than scooter
Gotta body in your past and depend on your future
How you be with crips and be with bloods? ‘Cause the money went neutral
If you see me with geesky, two lambos and two yeekies
A n**** playin’, he leakin’, they call me mister no speakin’
Might be the hustler of the century
Richest n**** I know, still under investigation, tryna duck the penitentiary
Streets talk too much, please do not mention me
We’re at war, four for n**** touch an inch of men
I was up with Gotti, he had sent for me
Drive from Texas to Tennessee
Pandemic price like thirty-three
Bricks and water was ten a piece
Get it wrapped like a gift from me
It was grey, I do my thing
Turnin’ blue, call her Tiffany, I’m a dawg
Fuck around with that food, only way I really eat
All the commentsvdon’t get to me, I come from out the project
Ay, put a mill in that water, stuck my arm in it, Vince Carter
They thought I died in the Charger but the shooter ain’t they target
So y’all blame them for the slaughter
Put down my history to mark it
Answer my call
Apartment walk out
Big blick in my joggers
Notorious like Big Papa
But I ain’t goin’ like Chris Wallace
This city know who they God was, they beggin’ for me to stop it
The reason they don’t ride with topless
No sympathy, that’s on mamas
You either in or you out it
Don’t even question me about it, n****