King Shit

[Intro: Yo Gotti] Oh this a hit, nigga With no words on it [Verse 1: Yo Gotti] I got on two chains, no, I ain't Tity Boi I'm dream chasing, but I ain't from Philly, boy Bitch bad, and she said I can get it, boy This a hit and I'ma make a nigga feel it, boy My flow deranged, my swag insane and my campaign on ten I like the bitch, she bad as fuck, but I'm really into her friend House up on the hill, got it off of cocaine Aventador Lamborghini, condo off of Biscayne Bitch, I'm in my lane, fresh as hell, no stains Robin's Jean with the stones, Giuseppes match my chain I’m different, I was built for this, my bitch only rock Tiffany You a rat, you’ll sing a symphony And I’m back, street's been missing me My watch silly, my clock ignorant, and I'm the king of my city I'm ban'd up and I ain't in a band But my flow just like an instrument Bass, feel that, yellow tape of the trizack Hating is a disease, pussy, where they do that? (L.A. Reid, cut the check for me) [Verse 2: T.I.] King shit and you know what it is Shorty smell like a pound of that loud But a nigga look like a hundred mil But I drive Ferrari, fuck the motherfucking dealer Pay ten million for a mansion, that worth more than your opinion I got racks all in my cargo pants Extended clip with that hollow, man, yo bitch ass If yo bitch bad, she get fucked fast, ain’t no romance My diamond dancing in 3D, nigga Like the Vegas strip when you see me, nigga Your money wrong and my money long And I'm playing with it like P.E., nigga Real nigga, no joke, don’t think there, nigga, no ho I got mini Mac-10 and a 100 round drum In the carpet up under my car And nigga, I don’t wanna smoke your weed Plain gas the only thing I smoke And I gotta thank God for the niggas off Bankhead Shorty, they taught me everything I know Like how to whip it, cook it, cut it, deal it Hand it to your partner, let him flood it through the city Really, we 'bout that action, you try us and we blasting We turnt to the max, that’s a motherfucking fact I'm a real nigga, fuck these rappers [Bridge: Yo Gotti] Door up, doors down When I’m in the club, bitch, it's going down Shorty thick as fuck, hands down Hands up, pants down Down, down, shorty fucking head down I see my phone blowing up, I know it’s going down Once I busted at the rapper, then it hit the town Chiefin' numbers in the city, boy, it going down [Verse 3: Yo Gotti] This that dope boy academy, them three letters been after me The F.B.I. ever catching me, my family might witness a tragedy Shorty open her legs up happily I ball hard like an athlete Young, black nigga in a big, white Phantom Nigga, I look like a referee They blowing the whistle, they telling If I do the crime, I'm jailin' This bitch turned up, making it rain When I'm in the club, you yelling They talk about these Bentleys that I'm getting on the daily One feet in the game and one feet out, swear I barely made it I'ma real nigga 'til the death of me Never sing a song like a parakeet Fifty bands in my pocket, just blew sixty grand on that Cherokee I be gettin' money like a motherfucking Brinks trunk Standing in the kitchen, nigga, trying to whip a brick up