Trap Luv

[Intro: Yo Gotti & Rick Ross]

Dudes can't appreciate, you know what I'm saying, talent and wealth, you know what I mean, as far as like mental wealth, you know what I mean? When you see when you the fool

I'm in a jungle (M—)

Lions, tigers and gorillas and shit, nigga (Hood Billionaire)

It's a lot of monkey-ass niggas out here too

Yeah

Art of hustle, nigga

Rules, laws, strategy

Uh (M—)

[Verse 1: Yo Gotti & Rick Ross]

Ten million dollars later, I'm a blessin', nigga (Hood Billionaire)

How a nigga rich, but still stressin', nigga?

Glock 40, Smith & Wesson, nigga

Streets'll never ever stop testin' niggas (Never)

Youngin give 'em a headshot, send a message, nigga

Part rapper, part goon, still finessin' niggas (I am)

I believe in hustle, I don't fuck with luck

And it's fuck 'em, kill 'em all if they don't fuck with us

Them three letters mean a lot boy, sacrifices

Cocaine Mafia, double check the prices

Niggas killin' niggas like they got a license

Niggas crossin' over like they Allen Iverson

Fuck that iPhone 6, they be trackin' niggas

I'm 'bout to get a beeper, fade to black on niggas

Gotti, goodnight, I'm gone

I'll be back when they quit livin' through phones

When niggas put the 'Gram down and pick the grams up

You got follows, but no dollars, man, that shit ain't addin' up

Nah, and all the dirt I done, all the bricks I sold

I can't sleep at night, paranoid, it shows

I be strapped on stage, fuck the award show

'Cause I'll shoot this bitch up and only God knows

[Interlude: Rick Ross]

Yeah, but like I told you a long time ago fam, y'all are my motivation

I keep fightin', doin' this to y'all

Every time I get somethin' in the mail, whether it's favorable or not from the courts, I keep puttin' it down because y'all are my motivation

I appreciate the love (Hood Billionaire)

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]

Niggas ridin' gold rims and they mama poor

And they kill a family member for that envelope'

I'm the Lionel Richie to these Commodores

We flipped pies to franchisin' Dominoes

I speak for dope boys every track I'm on

Until this day, my people never rat or told

Posted twenty in, I'm talkin' fed pen

The line between us both have gained so very thin

Amongst my boys, I'm W.E.B. Du Bois

Souls of black folk, to hustle wasn't a choice

Rap game, everybody skimmin' off the top

Fuck the interest as long as you pull it off the lot

Hoes wanna fuck, haters wanna hate

Certified sack boy, black Ronald Reagan

Double M, no longer that Buick Regal money

Nickel bag niggas, so don't make me put a kilo on it

Negotiatin' for it or either we take it

Niggas even shootin' choppers in a fuckin' cadence

Fell out with some people that I still love

I guess that's how it goes when it's real blood

I remember countin' cash, standin' in the trap

I turned my hat to the back, had a hundred stacks

Sixty M's later, it's three hundred tax

Still losin' weight with the south on my back, nigga

[Bridge: Rick Ross]

I pray you play by the rules

I came so close to the edge (Hood Billionaire)

I pray you play by the rules

I came so close to the edge

I pray you live by these rules

We came so close to the edge

I pray you play by the rules

[Outro: Rick Ross]

Ain't no mercy, young nigga

It's the jungle, locs (Hood Billionaire)

And I pray you rich forever

Gotti, I pray you rich forever

All my niggas, I pray you rich forever

When you smokin' and you vibin' to this shit

I pray you rich forever, my nigga

Hood Billionaire