I switched the whole game So the whole time they be following the same damn tree Confused? People tried to flop on me Thirty days Gold, "Ice Cold" (What?) Yo
(yeah) Niggas trying to run shit (trying to run the game) Don't know (Don't know) It's all a game... [Verse 1] Yo, it's like night life, ball fights
Gotti, here we go again, yo Two two-nine and seventy-six, get off my dick, niggaz I'm born The future problem's kickin' and carryin' on 'Cause I got
(before I snap yo neck) I'm not steve walker though families still matter (better check yo hoe) Your roll is slow my bankroll is much fatter (gotta make
power outage And it ain't no rivals, if it was, it'd be no survivors Just gimme a hour, I'll light it up like an Eiffel Tower Yo Gotti Got bills on
run and time served in Sing Sing I don't know to tell the truth If I'm pressed for doe, I got to consoul Irv Gotti y'all Irv Gotti: Heads got to
bombin this Yo I use my real name, cause I'm that nigga Thirteen years in the game, cause I'm that nigga Yo I still rock the same, cause I'm that nigga
niggas gotta say If I can't keep it real you can kill me so feel me 'cause I bring things to the game for my scuzzie We'll kick a niggas door in, hit
niggas back to this incident Verse 1: [gotti of fifth ward circle (fwc)] Nigga you full of shit Bitch now what is this, trick Some new shit Straight from yo
[Jay-Z] Yeah!! Check it check it out Uhhh haha gotta keep it fat Chorus: Jay Z (repeat 2X) I can't get with that I gotta keep it thick never miss
earth, whose next or gonna be first The projects is front lines, and the enemy is one time I ain't gotta tell you it's right in front of your eyes Yo
want the same vicks Stick up cats, robbin for name kicks Game flicks with low fooda I'm forced to blast on these street soldiers with cold shoulders
liquor & act figures bloodsport on the streets no gloves pullin' knives out the 'fridge handin' out cold cuts ugh streets real thug so recognize thug close yo
Ruffneck love liquor and act figures bloodsport on the streets No gloves pullin' knives out the fridge handin' out cold cuts UGH streets real thug so recognize thug close yo
a chorus line, it's a chorus line Yo, Tim Dog, bust your rhyme Yo, man it's the man himself The motherfuckin' illegal alien one Yo comin' up next is Tim Dog Yo
they can't be seen Ain't nobody look'n though Turn the heat up on that beef Ain't nobody cook'n though A section full of them bitches That Yo Gotti Look
[U-God] Yo, rated x, smack you off the stage when I'm vexed No sweat, I crack a cold case of Beck's Guess whose back, the jack of all trades is next The