| Grr
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| Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom
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| Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom
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| Ayo, kill or be killed, you know the motto
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| Jean Paul’s, you know the goggles
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| Flowers on the bottles
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| Don’t make me catch a hommo
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| Fire out the nozzle
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| Shot eight niggas, I hit the lotto
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| Shot eight niggas, I hit the lotto
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| Ayo, hangin' out the Tesla S
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| With the tight, ain’t nobody fuck with West
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| I used to dump all my crack, plus I had the best
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| Dope money, I got obsessed, you can’t connect
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| Make a million off the front steps, you know the rest
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| For my niggas didn’t tell when the feds swept
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| Took the top off the Corvette and Jesus wept
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| You ain’t never seen these Fear of God sweats, don’t hold your breath
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| Uh, fiends say I got the best ever
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| He lit a in front of, had the G-Wag revvin'
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| Pyrexes beyond measures
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| I seen my celly drop tears on that late night, stressin'
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| Push the key, line 7
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| In all my jewels, up in V-Live flexin'
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| Crossin' all my Ts, I had to go to court
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| 24 a key, make a nigga snort
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| Get your shit shot off for a short
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| Get you stabbed goin' to yard for a pack of Newports
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| Like Too $hort, face draped, Louis scarf
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| I don’t give a fuck who you are
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| Kill or be killed, you know the motto
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| Jean Paul’s, you know the goggles
|
| Flowers on the bottles
|
| Don’t make me catch a hommo
|
| Fire out the nozzle
|
| Shot eight niggas, I hit the lotto
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| Shot eight niggas, I hit the lotto
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| Yo, look, uh
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| Saran rap the money, she fuck me 'cause I’m famous
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| Her brother work for us, her pops told her I was dangerous
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| Fuck my bitch in the hills, nigga, and I ain’t talkin' fashion
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| I’m talkin' 'bout a mansion and a crib in Calabasas
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| Whippin' work 'til it melt, got me the shirt with the belt
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| They respect it when the bosses put the work in theyself, look
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| I’m from a different era, I ain’t used to all this pump fakin'
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| They gon' front page us if they catch us in this bus station
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| Free my nigga Dowy G, 'cause all he got is gun cases
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| Word is in Clinton, he shot six niggas with one razor
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| Yeah, y’all got y’all jewels on, but you be scared to come places
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| I be in the slums, starin' back, like, «Come take it»
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| My plug got knocked and all I had left was one payment
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| But he kept it G, 'cause I ain’t seen my name in one statement
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| Came to runnin' grams, I was number one in fam, shit
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| By the time we parted ways, he made a couple hundred grand
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| I’m a real nigga, I been Gucci, got dressed, I’m in Gucci
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| Crazy shit is everyday, we lit, like YFN Lucci
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| Every rap, you got about 20 MACs and 10 Uzis
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| Then why you ain’t been shoot me?
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| Man, you niggas been groupies, let’s go
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| Kill or be killed, you know the motto
|
| Jean Paul’s, you know the goggles
|
| Flowers on the bottles
|
| Don’t make me catch a hommo
|
| Fire out the nozzle
|
| Shot eight niggas, I hit the lotto
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| Shot eight niggas, I hit the lotto |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Lotto , by - Westside Gunn. Song from the album Fourth Rope, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп