Yo Gotti - R.I.C.O. Freestyle

R.I.C.O. Freestyle Lyrics / Paroles



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 kill '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 bitch and she cheat on him wit bitches

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 fuck 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, buns, made niggas got a friend (Got a friend)

Got a bun, yo partna left in jail (That ain real)

Same nigga give you chopper tell you go kill (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

Bitches fuck up cuz they slick n shit

You swear to God that yo know yo bitch (But do you really?)

But I know the bitch better, keep that a secret (But that's coooool)

I can tell you sum shit about the bitch's secrets (Oh really)

You buying the bitch baths (??) trying your best to keep her

But all she wanted was some lingerie Victoria Secrets

Why these niggas still killin, 'bout thy penance, 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 shit

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 ain't Nemo

(Don't jump in the water with the sharks, boy)

All the hustla niggas that's aloof

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