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