Yo Gotti - Buy Out lyrics

A hundred miles and running, n***as going at the end of me n***as switching sides, give me nothing like it's the end of me. n***as having family, but I know these n***as into me. Pown me, thug it to the motherf**er sin is me. I'm a train the topic time down, b**h, I'm riding in a 'rarri. If you don't like me, than I'm sorry. I ain't og, I'm just being me, f**ing pretty clear. I rap about this sh**, 'cause I did it. Life don't change, neither do the game, n***as getting money, but the rules stay the same. Who I'm gonna sound with, who I wanna ground with? That's my only question, n***a, see 'em G I'm down with. Cocaine mirrors, cold money guns, every n***a I f** with with the g I make them bun, So I never leave the house without my chain on my gut, Got on my old boy Gucci so I fresh pearl once. See, n***a, see, I feel like I wanna release, n***a, I got to face earth, you know what I mean? And then I got nothing to do and get no money And that, n***a, that be a hundred. That be a hundred with yourself, that be a hundred with the n***as, A hundred with you, you know what I mean? Man, I got a lot of young n***a around me, n***a, And that's straight of low life family, n***a, could k** for each other, That thing is real. Murder was the case, n***a, jump a hoardal with a race n***a, down Then I put it in your face, to the face, on my case, n***a, Told my lawyer go to trial, I'm doing it big in the meanwhile. If I lose, place a riot for me, if I die don't stay fire for me, Pour on some liquor and get higher for me, I'm doing this thing for my home boys, I have it, oh, lord, so surely can avoid. I came here speaking from my heart for some time around Am I a real rapper or just a n***a on lands? I don't know, I'm confused, do I suppose to be rich? You know that hoe ain't your hoe, she's your supposed to be b**h. No supposed to be clip, I want no allias, You see 'em G, homie and we don't franchise. I get green gas off the whipe a**, don't get in that pot And he get bout time. Hallelujah, bless my shooters, serve my jazle, watch him hit that shooter. f** that rap sh**, I don't fit in, How they f** boys, how they fake friends. Streets on fire, plug on gold mode, streets so damn dry, I might get a truck load. f** your country, I won't sign it, labels keep calling me, but I don't call back.