lirik lagu r.i.c.o (freestyle) – yo gotti
[intro]
ooooh
niggas like talk yo shit gotti, these niggas don’t know what’s up
nigga hating on you, you boutta tell em
it’s coooooool
(hahaha) this the money call right now
look, old money, new niggas i don’t really feel ’em
copped that lamb off the lot, i can’t wait to k!ll ’em
new crib like the mall, can’t fill the closets
back n forth to the bank, too many deposits
and that’s cool, rockin ’em robins and giuseppes
niggas ungrateful ain’t no more happy
please quit axin me for them selfies (urgh)
i don’t take pictures with niggas, (can’t do that)
i take em picture with hoes
he got a b-tch and she cheat on him wit b-tches
them my relationship goals
old problems, new beef, shit may never end
if we ain’t broke bread, got no money, we ain’t friends
quit callin me bruh, i ain’t yo brother, nigga we ain’t kin
(we ain’t brothas)
blood thicker than water, nigga nah, shit thin
whole label got me here honestly
i got em young gangstas under me
i got them niggas gon gun for me
i’m trynna get me a hunnid piece
on the cool i’m talkin like a hunnid mill
multi-millionaire but i’m a hunnid still
shotgun duplex with a hunnid thou
i can show you how a hunnid feel
i can show you how a hunnid click up
if you f-ck up then you lose a twenny-five
half a quarter for twenny five
partna under twenty one and got a twenty-five (ooooh)
lawyer paid, bonds, made niggas got a friend (got a friend)
you got a bond, yo patna left ya in jail (that ain’t real)
same nigga give you chopper tell you go k!ll (yaaw niggas)
that what yo niggas call real then i guess i ain’t real
industry fake and you know that shit
niggas be hating over hoes n shit
b-tches f-ck up cuz they slick n shit
you swear to god that yo know yo b-tch (but do you really?)
but i know the b-tch better, keep that a secret (but that’s coooool)
i can tell you sum shit about the b-tch’s secrets (oh really)
you buying the b-tch baths (??) trying your best to keep her
but all she wanted was some lingerie victoria secrets
why these niggas still k!llin, ’bout these pennies, i don’t really get it
and i’m good wit to my niggas, millions, guess i’m still hustlin till the team win it
super bowl, championship, why these niggas still jumpin ship?
bury me with a hundred thou, pack of rubberbands and a thirty clip
ay i’m boutta get hit with the rico
you niggas go snitchin like nino (you ain’t new york city till the feds came home)
don’t jump in the water, you nemo
(don’t jump in the water with the sharks, boy)
all the hustla niggas that’s aloof
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