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yo gotti - king shit lyrics

oh this a hit n-gg-r
with no words only
i got a gold chain
no way did it boy
i’m dream chasing but i ain’t fulfill it boy
and she say how you did it boy?
this a hit and imma make you feel it by

my quarter planes, my swagger sayin
i can’t plan on 10
i like the beat she ready for
not really into her friend
got it off a cocaine
hate to do a lamborghini thunder while forbids
b-tch i’m in my lane fresher jeans no style
giuseppe man’s my chain
i’m different all dividend
my b-tch only ride d-ck 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 -ss
haters on the zs, p-ssy why they do that?

king sh-t, hey you know what it is
tryna smell on that pound that loud for a n-gg-r
like 100 real and
drive ferrari for some motherf-cking 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 b-tch as yo b-tch bad
she can f-ck fast ain’t no romance
my diamond dancing in 3d n-gg-r
fake the trip where you see me n-gg-r
your money wrong and my money long
and i’m playing with it like pe n-gg-r
real n-gg-r no joke
no fake -ss n-gg-r no hope
i got mini round team and a 100 round joke
i’m gonna over up all of my c-ke
and n-gg-r i don’t wanna smoke your weed
plain -ss 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 turn to the mat that’s a motherf-cking fact
come a real n-gg-r for e round

door up, doors down
when i’m in the club b-tch ya going down
shorty take it for, hand down
heads up, pants down
down, down, shorty f-cking head down
i see my phone blowing up
i know it’s going down
what’s up p-ssy in the rapper it ain’t hit the town
keeping numbers in the city boy it’s going down
that’s that dope boy automy
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 n-gg-r
they blowing the whistle they telling
i do the clam i’m chilling
this b-tch 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
imma real n-gg-r 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 motherf-cker lose control
spend it in the kitchen n-gg-r 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

- yo gotti lyrics

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