John Gotti - 3 Mins of Hell paroles de chanson

paroles de chanson 3 Mins of Hell - John Gotti



All of my niggas they score on they opps
Come fuck wit the gang then you getting shot
Boy you dead they labeled you hot
You don't fuck wit me then I don't fuck wit you back
Got the key to my city ain't giving it back
Bout to cook up my tape like I'm cooking up crack
And them features don't fuck wit you you getting taxed
I ain't chasing no deal cuz that shit really wack
Like to do what I want, I put on for the trap
Know a gutta bitch she hiding dope in her crack
She creative she get you a perk in a max
On the tier cos they all in a hat
Take it back to the times it was miss marry matt
I seen niggas wit js and I wanted that
I ain't hate I was patient to get where I'm at
This ain't dora, I couldn't just follow a map
Know how you is you got bitch in you nigga
You tell on ya guy, you got snitch in you nigga
I married the game wit a wish to get bigga
A dream that one day I be richer than jigga
But no I ain't selling my soul for a nigga
And no I ain't sliding in none of ya pictures
Just pay my price for we shoot up the villa
And cancel ya life like you wasn't a member
Come from the city of broad day
Double homicide that shit was broad day
Ima rasta feel like a marley
Stupid nigga try flex in the party
We at his house and that was by noon
This perfect cuz all of the kids was in school
I'm gangsta so yes really play by the rules
No beefing wit women and elderlys too
Most niggas know I'm the king of city
My heart in this shit I give up a kidney
So many gone man I wish they was wit me
How many you lose? Ahh fuck it's too many
Remember that time had to cut off sydney
She pretty asf ain't respect I be busy
I'm tryn make it out, I ain't tryn get no hickies
I'm going to school mova copping me dickies
John pull up wit his goons
Lies
I only pull up wit them tools
Circle small so I don't got no room
It's only the family when I'm coming through
Boy I'm sharp as a needle
But fly like a eagle
I keep desert eagles
All black like a beetle
Boy them straps that I got man they really be legal
They ain't know I could rap
Niggas prey on my down they want me to trap
Posted up with a strap, and then one of my homies put one in my back
Cuz that's just how the streets go, niggas dying for shit that I spent on my peacoat
John gotti the street goat, and they already know cuz I give all the streets hope
Free my big cuzin he locked in a cell
I'm mad as a bitch they give him a bail
In adversity niggas be tucking they tail
I'm solid as shit ima always prevail
Move at my pace slow grind like a snail
Do you need help uh uh I'm doing well
You wanna be great come and follow my trail
I'm all bout my green fell in love with the kale
Og kush throw it all on the scale
You know it be gone, sent that shit through the mail
You ain't a man just because you a male
You stupid if you think that I'm gonna fail
2 For the 20 no this ain't a sale
This gun leave em holy but this ain't no grail
Im smoove but hard as a bitch like a nail
Put me in a box call it be hell in the cell
Uh trap real hard
I'm the one that they label a god
I'm the one that done beat all the odds
People love me cuz I'm not a fraud
Uh
Seen niggas shoot up wit needles
It started wit perks man this shit getting evil
I played all my roles cuz my life like a sequel
It only get better I'm spitting that either



Writer(s): John Crosby


John Gotti - Ebony Son 2
Album Ebony Son 2
date de sortie
13-03-2020




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