Fa Fa Fa

[Intro] (Ayy, who that? John Gotitt) [Verse 1: Yo Gotti & EST Gee] Trap be still doing numbers Big Gotti still got runners Twenty years straight, no fumbles Wildlife, nigga, from the jungle Nigga too small to be cocky (Look) And I'm too big to be humble [Verse 2: EST Gee] Yeah, I was okay, rich under thunder Too much, can't tuck it, I'm punchin' (On go) I ain't get no game from my uncles (Uh-uh) So I ain't show 'em no love on the numbers Fuck 'em, shit, they hated my pops Fake like it's love 'cause I'm up, but it's not First in the city put switch on a Glock First nigga paid five figures a drop Keep a good grip when you hittin', it's hot Put one on top and then hop out the car with that— [Chorus: EST Gee] Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa [Verse 3: Yo Gotti] When the twin flames jump at that car (Flat) I'll make a nigga call for Allah (On God) I'm a trap nigga, babe, I'm a star (I am) When I say go bar for bar (Sticks) That's a hundred thousand Xanax bars (Bars) Now I could buy it on a Amex card (Swipe) Ain't no receipt on a pack, nigga (Pack) Ain't no bringin' this shit back, nigga (Back) Fuck around and get flapped, nigga (Flapped) [Chorus: Yo Gotti] Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa [Verse 4: Yo Gotti] I got these sticks in the rental This bitch in the car and she too sentimental I got my dawg in my car and he fuck with the opps, he play in the middle Oh, he thinkin' he Slime, I'm three steps ahead, he don't even know it I told him, "I need some gas," I get out and pump it, they pull up, and blow it (Frrah) I was chilling in Turks, my nigga on Percs, he talkin' 'bout killin' (Killin') I'm tryna exit the streets, this shit got a ceilin', I'm thinking 'bout billions ('Bout billions) I just talked to Drew Findling, they finna free Doggy, you don't know the feelin' Yeah, you don't know the feelin', they lock up ya partner, y'all runnin' up millions (Damn) Yeah, I just jumped off a island, I'm back on a tour Jump off the tour and I'm back in the trap Jumped out the trap and go up to the office Put down the strap, go through some offers Pick up my strap, and I'm back at the door (Yeah) Phone on private, ain't dropping my lo' (My lo') Callin' the label, they late on our paper We treatin' this shit like we still sellin' dope Brand new Ferrari, I ordered it (Skrrt) Asian masseuse, imported it ('Ported it) I'm on the side my niggas on, so if they get on yo' ass, I'm supportin' it I'm too big for the bullshit, I already know it (I know it) I know better, but I ignore it I'm not a rapper I'm a poet (What am I?) Street nigga, drug lord (Gotti) [Outro: Yo Gotti] Let the beat breathe Ayy, let the beat breathe on these pussies Just vibe out, flex, know what I'm sayin'? First hundred K, I remember (Frrt) First seven figures, I remember (Frrt) First AK, I remember (Fah) It was cold day in December First nigga felt that— (Uh), first nigga felt that fire First nigga First niggas y'all let die (Pussies)