Music World
 
Find Artists:
 
 
 
Russian versionSwitch to Russian 
Yo Gotti




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  Y  →  Yo Gotti  →  Albums  →  Self Explanatory

Yo Gotti Album


Self Explanatory (05/22/2001)
05/22/2001
1.
Intro
2.
3.
Slash
4.
Young Nigga Thuggin'
5.
Wanna Play
6.
Move
7.
Life Is A Thug
8.
Fuck Yo Bitch (Remix)
9.
10.
Street Talk (Skit)
11.
Gotti This, Gotti That
12.
So What U Workin' Out
13.
One Day U Comin' Home
14.
World War III
15.
Broke And Disgusted
16.
Hard To Believe
17.
18.
Sweet Mama
. . .

Intro

[No lyrics]

. . .


[Hook]
It all started out at a I&E fest
When Grip told Gotti to bump his best
He said 'Go Go Gotti, Go Go Go Gotti
Go Go Gotti, Go Go Go Gotti'

Go Gotti go
That's all I know
It started out
In a small project, where i was turning it out
Credit for Grip
He never tripped, he kept it real
Had the bankroll and the knowledge, and I had the skill
I was twelve years old, Grip was fourteen
Grip was gettin' work, I was servin' fiends
I been a wigsplitter, slash money-go-getter
Ever since I was a itty-bitty lil nigga
Thank I was the wisest youngster out there hustlin'
Twelve year old kid on the block cuffin'
Packs in my ass and rocks under my tongue
Gotti ain't doing drugs cause Gotti ain't gettin' sprung
Rappin' came eazy
It was a gift, that I got from Jeezy

I told you once, and you didn't believe me
Now with the help of Grip, it cost to see me
I'm a thug and drugs is what I live by
So if I speak it I mean it, cause I don't liz-ie
When I turned fifteen, I had ten G's
Me and Grip colaborated and bought a key
And for a hobby, you know I was rappin'
But never thought that this CD shit would happen
I dropped my first album, they went crazy
And at random I was fuckin' these nigga's ladies
Don't play no games, and please don't criticize me
Who had a hundred G's, my age, beside me?
I went to school with platinum chains, and platinum grills
A sports car, a big truck on twenty wheels
You won't believe the shit, that I done been through
The cats I roll wit, and who I'm kin to, I'm kin to

Hook until end

. . .

Slash

[No lyrics]

. . .

Young Nigga Thuggin'

[No lyrics]

. . .

Wanna Play

[No lyrics]

. . .

Move

[No lyrics]

. . .

Life Is A Thug

[No lyrics]

. . .

Fuck Yo Bitch

[No lyrics]

. . .


feat. Boss Lady
You went and bought that bitch
Flossed that bitch
But you lost that bitch
Cuz we tossed that bitch
Bought that bitch
Flossed that bitch
But you lost that bitch
Cuz we tossed that bitch, what

Hook: Toss that hoe
Toss that bitch
Repeat 3x

I can't believe all y'all niggas out here buyin these hoes
Need to imitate Gotti start lyin to these hoes
Tossin these hoes
Never ever flossin these hoes
You know how it go
Two thangs I ain't seen befo' (before)
A UFO and a hoe that will not go
Cuz after the show
I'm tossin up 3 bitches or mo' (more)
You know how I roll
Wit the whole firm in this bitch
The Embassy Suites
We takin turns tossin a bitch
Who I be? Yo Gotti
Ain't scared of nobody
Clique tight wit my people
Totin' a desert eagle
You roll through in a Regal
Lookin like 'Leave It To Beaver'
Talkin about some mo shit about yo senorita
You know I'm fuckin nigga's hoes whenever I can
Ain't gon hide it
Gon provide it
Bring this shit to the fan
You see what I'm sayin'?
They say that I'm a dog and all
I'm up to no good
They say I'm fuckin all the broads but really I'm not
I just got my name too hot
Tossed too many hoes wit niggas that talk a lot

Hook

I don't support these bitches
I go to court on bitches
Get a resrtainin' order so they can keep they distance
Can't adapt to thes bitches
Try not to slap these bitches
Don't wanna hit these bitches
I just want cap from these bitches
I ain't got time for bitches
Mind ain't made for bitches
Askin God to keep Gotti away from these bitches
These hoes stare too much
These hoes care too much
These hoes get in the mirror and comb they hair too much
These hoes thin they slick
These hoes'll fuck yo friend
Break bad, make up, then do it again
These hoes ain't got no feelin's
Hoes prayin' for chillin's (children)
By a young balla nigga that they think got millions

These hoes eat too much
These hoes sleep too much
These hoes complain too much
These hoes change too much
I got this bitch at my crib
All the bitch do is bitch
This hoe is outta her mind
She ain't got shit on shit
First it was cool to kick it
Now the hoe gettin evicted
'Get the fuck out my house, and take this burnt ass chicken!'
I said ain't shit main
Bout a bitch but her name
I can promise you that I hate my hoes the same, what

(Boss Lady)
You love that nigga
I love his cash
I dun hit the boy stash
He ain't even get no ass
You love that nigga
I love his cash
I dun hit the boy stash
He ain't even get no ass, what

Break that trick
Charge that bitch
Repeat 3x

I'm a priceless bitch
I'm rockin ice and shit
Breakin bad on niggas before it's time to hit
Get they cheese then I vamp
Leave these niggas stressed out
And can't wait til they run up on me wit they chest stuck out
'You wanna fight or sumthin'? That's what I want you to do
So I can call up Gotti 'nem to blast yo' crew'
You think you tossin these hoes dawg, but really you not
You niggas payin what you weighin' peelin off the knot
You got a thug bitch fucked off deep in the game
Gimme ten G's if you wanna toss me, mane
Don't try to get no playa points off usin my name
When you ain't tell em how you used the whipped cream on me, mane
Now this bitch constantly talkin' bout her nigga the shit
Now I dun asked this hoe a question:
What you want for a brick?
Now what you know abouy transportin' bricks for thugs?
'Shit.'
I thought not cuz you fuck wit scrubs
You wit that faithful shit
That relationship
I'm tryin' to break a trick
Vacate wit all his chips
If he got a woman then disregard that shit
Cuz yo' main obstacle is to charge that trick

(Boss Lady) Break that trick
(Yo Gotti) Toss that bitch
Repeat 3x
Hook until end

. . .

Street Talk

[No lyrics]

. . .

Gotti This, Gotti That

[No lyrics]

. . .

So What U Workin' Out

[No lyrics]

. . .

One Day U Comin' Home

[No lyrics]

. . .

World War III

[No lyrics]

. . .

Broke And Disgusted

[No lyrics]

. . .

Hard To Believe

[No lyrics]

. . .


feat. Don Dirty
[Hook]
I feel like you can't stop me now, drop me now
Women wanna watch me now, jock me now
I feel like you can't stop me now, they love my voice
Of course, full-force, I done made it now

[Yo Gotti]
I feel like you can't stop me now
I'm tighter now
More of a writer now
Than a rapper now
Got me payin' taxes now
Can't relax now
Got big corporations, sending me faxes now
More than just Yo now
CEO now
You see them diamonds and them ??? in my rope now
I'm on a roll now
Got me doing shows now
And when my album drops, it's certified gold now
Woah now
My pockets on swoll now
Hold now
Uncles Sam askin' how many units I sold now
Thinkin' bout makin' clothes now
Movies and videos now
Puttin it down for big dope boys, make all the noise now
Money come legit now, I put it in the bank now
Withdraw, ATM, from my account now
Check never bounce now
Plat by the once now
So many karats, that it's hard for me to count now

[Hook]

[Yo Gotti]
You ought to see the way I be ballin' now
You ought to see the way the girls be callin' now
Sweatin' me now, talkin' bout get married now
I'm laughin' now, she gettin' about her karats now
It's so funny that it hurt now
She think I'm Captain Kirk now
She ain't spending mine, unless she puttin' in work now
Got me cashin' checks now
Bout time for me to flex now
Bezzled-out Rolex now
Bout to buy a lake now

I refuse to quit now
Cause Gotti is the shit now
Never thought I'd drop a tape and come up wit a hit now
Take it how you wanna now
Don't smoke no marijauna now
That was in my younger days, like youngsters on the corner now
Platted out my grill now
Bout to sign a deal now
Moved into a crib now
Retired from the hill now
Tired of doing dirt now
My niggas on that yirk now
Feel like I owe the Lord, so I'm goin' to church now

[Hook]

[Yo Gotti]
Niggas got they hand out
Like I owe them somethin' now
Constantly askin me for VIP's to my shows now
See me in the street now
Break they neck to speak now
Made a few examples so I barely get beef now
My shit in the stoes (stores) now
Rollin' wit the pros now
Cause my shit is sellin' like the Ralph Lauren clothes now
Clicked up wit Dirt now, people do my track now
Never ever ever will you say my shit is wack now

[Don Dirty]
When you see us banged out in the stretch Lex wit the brains out
Done sold two million or mo' we gettin' change now
Don Dirty left the game on hold, it aint the same now
Police walkin round in plain clothes, and constantly layin 'round
Police filling phonies with friends,but try to spot me
Set a nigga up for 10 O's and still couldn't stop me
But they watch me
Run in my house just like a hobby
I'm a smooth mastermind in the game
They still cant stop me

[Hook]

. . .

Sweet Mama

[No lyrics]

. . .


blog comments powered by Disqus



© 2011 Music World. All rights reserved.