Yo Gotti
R.I.C.O (Freestyle)
[Intro]
Ooooh
N***as like talk yo shit Gotti, these n***as don't know what's up
N***a hating on you, you boutta tell em
It's coooooool
(Hahaha) This the money call right now
Look, old money, new n***as I don't really feel 'em
Copped that Lamb off the lot, I can't wait to kill 'em
New crib like the mall, can't fill the closets
Back n forth to the bank, too many deposits
And that's cool, rockin 'em Robins and Giuseppes
N***as ungrateful ain't no more happy
Please quit axin me for them selfies (Urgh)
I don't take pictures with n***as, (Can't do that)
I take em picture with hoes
He got a bitch and she cheat on him wit bitches
Them my relationship goals
Old problems, new beef, shit may never end
If we ain't broke bread, got no money, we ain't friends
Quit callin me bruh, I ain't yo brother, n***a we ain't kin
(We ain't brothas)
Blood thicker than water, n***a nah, shit thin
Whole label got me here honestly
I got em young gangstas under me
I got them n***as gon gun for me
I'm trynna get me a hunnid piece
On the cool I'm talkin like a hunnid mill
Multi-millionaire but I'm a hunnid still
Shotgun duplex with a hunnid thou
I can show you how a hunnid feel
I can show you how a hunnid click up
If you fuck up then you lose a twenny-five
Half a quarter for twenny five
Partna under twenty one and got a twenty-five (Ooooh)
Lawyer paid, bonds, made n***as got a friend (Got a friend)
You got a bond, yo patna left ya in jail (That ain't real)
Same n***a give you chopper tell you go kill (Yaaw n***as)
That what yo n***as call real then I guess I ain't real
Industry fake and you know that shit
N***as be hating over hoes n shit
Bitches fuck up cuz they slick n shit
You swear to God that yo know yo bitch (But do you really?)
But I know the bitch better, keep that a secret (But that's coooool)
I can tell you sum shit about the bitch's secrets (Oh really)
You buying the bitch baths (??) trying your best to keep her
But all she wanted was some lingerie Victoria Secrets
Why these n***as still killin, 'bout these pennies, I don't really get it
And I'm good wit to my n***as, millions, guess I'm still hustlin till the team win it
Super bowl, Championship, why these n***as still jumpin ship?
Bury me with a hundred thou, pack of rubberbands and a thirty clip
Ay I'm boutta get hit with the RICO
You n***as go snitchin like Nino (You ain't New York City till the feds came home)
Don't jump in the water, you Nemo
(Don't jump in the water with the sharks, boy)
All the hustla n***as that's aloof