Yo Gotti - King sh** lyrics

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Yo Gotti - King sh** lyrics

Oh this a hit n******g 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 c**aine Hate to do a Lamborghini thunder while forbids b**h I'm in my lane fresher jeans no style Giuseppe man's my chain I'm different all dividend sponsored links My b**h only ride dick 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 a** Haters on the Zs, p**y why they do that? King sh**, hey you know what it is Tryna smell on that pound that loud for a n******g Like 100 real and Drive Ferrari for some motherf**ing k**er 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**h as yo b**h bad She can f** fast ain't no romance My diamond dancing in 3D n******g Fake the trip where you see me n******g Your money wrong and my money long And I'm playing with it like PE n******g Real n******g no joke No fake a** n******g no hope I got mini round team and a 100 round joke I'm gonna over up all of my coke And n******g I don't wanna smoke your weed Plain a** 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**ing fact Come a real n******g for E round Door up, doors down When I'm in the club b**h ya going down Shorty take it for, hand down Heads up, pants down Down, down, shorty f**ing head down I see my phone blowing up I know it's going down What's up p**y 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******g They blowing the whistle they telling I do the clam I'm chilling This b**h 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******g till the d**h 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**er lose control Spend it in the kitchen n******g 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

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